Forget Me Not
by AvatarTwilightObsession
Summary: 18th century England. Bella and Edward are best friends; she is the daughter of a lord, and he is their gardener’s son. They are worlds apart. Can their growing feelings for each other withstand the trials that lie ahead, or will society tear them apart?
1. Prologue

**Welcome, everyone, and happy Edward Cullen's Birthday!**

**This is my totally new story; it's set in the Georgian Era of England, I can't name an exact year for you, but know it's set around the end of 1700. I based it somewhat on the film: The Duchess, though it's not exactly the same, I haven't just followed that story. This has taken a lot of research, let me tell you!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! A shout out or two - to my Beta, Arya Nuanen, for helping me to get this story up and running, and being so encouraging all the time! She is completely fabulous, everyone, so all thank her!**

**Disclaimer - I, of course, own nothing :D**

**Happy Reading!

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One day, a little girl, whilst running amongst the forget-me-nots in her secret field, an escapee from her latest governess, her white summer dress stained green with grass, came across a boy.

Lying in the flowers, his eyes closed, his hands behind his head, seemingly asleep.

Tilting her head, she stuck her tongue out, biting the very tip as she always did when she was deep in thought. She didn't think he knew she was there, so she stood still for a while, her long and now tangled mahogany hair blowing in the wind.

Who was he?

She knelt down beside him; the governess' cries fading away as she looked at him, taking in his slightly patched clothes and his trousers which were hanging around his ankles, obviously too small.

All of a sudden his eyes snapped open, and she jumped, then at once leaned in for a closer look. They were a vivid, intense green – like no colour she had ever seen before.

"Hello," he said, not seeming at all surprised at their proximity, grinning up at her.

"Hello," she replied, shyly, blushing a little, unable to resist smiling back.

He sat up, holding out his hand, "I'm Edward."

She looked at him for a second longer, then sat down beside him and took his hand, "I'm Bella."

They shook on it, their first deal of their lifelong friendship.

That was where my story began.

That was where it ended.

In the field of forget-me-nots.

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**I hope that's intruiged you enough to REVIEW! I would like to get at least a few before I update.  
**

**The next chapter should be up in a day or two xxx**

**Love, ATO!  
**


	2. Simple

**Hello, everyone! **

**Sorry this took so long, life is getting ahead of me...but, the second chapter is nearly up and running, just need to send it off to be Beta-d then I'll have another update for you!**

**For now, here is Chapter 1 :D**

**Thanks again to my wonderful Beta, Arya Nuanen, without whom none of this would be possible. As always, you are awesome! Appreciate her, everyone!**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing...but then, who does? There's a riddle for you all ;)**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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**Bella's POV  
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"Isabella!" the woman behind me shrieked, as loud as were possible as she attempted to catch me, running through the long grass on my tail, "Isabella, come back here!"

I giggled to myself, wanting to shout back, "It's Bella!" But I didn't. Instead I ducked down low, imagining to myself that I was a snake – I'd found a giant heavy book on animals in the library yesterday, and after poring through it, discovered a whole new plain of imagination, most of which included roaring like a tiger, or a ferocious lion, as my little sister, Alice, squeaked and laughed whilst I chased her through the endless halls of our home.

I ran swiftly through the long grass; very near to thirteen, I was young enough and small enough to still be hidden by their waving threads. Escape was the only thing on my mind, as I had places to go and someone to see.

After all, I thought, I'm practically thirteen now. Old enough to go by myself. Who needs silly governesses?

I took my secret path, winding through the grounds, sure to lose Victoria, as suddenly I remembered her name was.

I followed the beaten track up the hill, the long grass shrinking as I ran, my hair whipped out of its tidy – and very uncomfortable – bun. I could see the waving field of blue ahead of me; just on the edge of the Swan estate, and the flowers became clearer as I approached, the solid blue separating into millions of different strands.

I reached the flowers, turned around to make sure no one was following, then danced across the meadow, feeling light and graceful – the only time I ever felt light and graceful. I twirled my arms in the air, running, turning in circles, the flowers obscuring my feet so I looked as if I was dancing on air. I laughed happily.

Then I tripped over something soft, yet sturdy, falling straight on my face, the laugh catching in my throat and turning into a squeak of surprise. The being on the ground and I ended up entangled amongst the flowers.

"Edward!" I moaned, rubbing my head as I propped myself up on my elbows, finding myself resting across his chest - he was much taller than I, "Must you sit in the middle of the grass and trip me up every single day?" I twisted, rolling off him and blowing my hair off my face, aggravated.

"Obviously I must," my fifteen-year-old best friend murmured, swaying upright, blinking a little; he'd been lying with his eyes closed, as always. All the more reason that I should trip up over him if he couldn't see me.

"Honestly, Edward," I huffed, brushing at my skirt, "Mother told me to keep this clean!"

"You have dirt on your head too," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling familiarly as he leaned forward and poked my forehead; I swatted at him.

"Leave off!"

He tutted teasingly, "Now, now, Lady Swan, that is not ladylike behaviour," he said in his poshest voice, imitating my incredibly rigid aunt.

"Not amusing," I replied, glaring at him then crossing my ankles, leaning back on my hands and staring up at the sky.

"Very amusing, and you know it," he chuckled, pulling on the tips of my hair, a sensation he knew I hated.

"Edward, stop it!" I swatted him again, catching him on the arm, and he yelped.

"Alright, alright, Bells, there's no need to beat me."

I smirked at him, "Oh, believe me, there is a need." He narrowed his eyes at me, and I repeated the gesture; after a few seconds I couldn't hold back a giggle, which set him off too. "Truce?" I laughed, holding out my hand, and he shook it, smiling widely.

"Truce."

He crossed his legs together, leaning back on his hands as I was, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, "So, who did you have to escape today?"

I sighed, "Victoria."

He opened one eye, smiling teasingly again, "There's no wonder they all leave, Bells; you are positively vile to them!"

"Am not," I defended, "I behave in my lessons, don't I? They just don't know when to let me be."

"That's because young daughters of lords shouldn't be running around in the fields all day," he reasoned, "They're only doing what your father has told them to do."

"My father would never tell them to stop me from going out," I said knowingly, "he knows how much I love it out here." That, at least, was true. My father, Lord Charles, was, in my opinion, the best father that had ever lived. If I was being honest, I loved him more than I did my mother. Only slightly.

I would never tell anyone that other than Edward, and that was only because I told him everything. He understood me better than anyone in the world, apart from father and mother, when she wasn't engaged in some sort of business. My mother was much more interested in society than my father, even though he always succeeded in coaxing her away from any gathering simply through one smile in her direction.

"That's true," he agreed, "but what about your mother?"

"She doesn't mind either." I shrugged, "Either way, I would rather not to have a governess at all. I still don't understand why I can't just have a tutor instead."

"Because daughters of lords shouldn't be running around in the fields all day," Edward repeated, "and you know it. Governesses are meant to turn you into a lady."

I simply gave him a sceptical look, pulling up flowers as I did so, gathering them in my hands. Turning away, I focused on them, weaving whilst he was silent. I felt no need to argue it out with him, as we were so inclined to do. I knew if Edward wanted to say something, he would say it eventually.

"And ladies shouldn't be spending all their time with the gardener's son, either," he murmured after a few minutes of tense silence.

I looked up then from the forget-me-not chain I had been making – Edward taught me how last year – and sighed. "Do you think I care?" I asked, as I always did when Edward brought up the issue of our social differences, "I would much rather spend time with you than be a lady."

"Your mother cares."

"No she doesn't," I huffed, "she knows how good friends we are. Besides, we've known each other since I was seven, you're hardly the 'gardener's son' to me." I looked down again, "And you know it, Edward Masen."

Our fathers were great friends too. Edward had been talking about this kind of thing lately – it not being good for me to be friends with him – and it confused me no end. I didn't see what he was talking about, the only other good companion I had was my younger sister, Alice. The other girls who lived in the local village I found dull and boring. All they were interested in were dresses and ribbons, and, lately, young men, who, in my opinion, were hardly men at all; they were still boys. Not anything like as interesting as Edward.

And, in my opinion, Edward was much more handsome than any of them.

I just didn't understand why Edward cared so about our differences. It wasn't as if anyone else in the world cared.

"Really, Bella?"

The way he was smiling at me when I glanced up at him made me blush, and I looked down; it took me a second to remember what I had just said, then I sent Edward the most reassuring smile I could muster, "You're Edward. My best friend."

He smiled, "And you're Bella. My best friend."

Picking up a handful of petals I made my hands into a little bowl, put my mouth in between and blew them all away, watching them float in the wind. Keeping my eyes on the disappearing flecks of blue, I said, "That's all we need to be."

*

"Isabella Swan! Where have you been?" my mother shrieked, racing in to apprehend me as I skipped through the front doors, sliding to a halt as she appeared in front of me.

"Nowhere," I responded at once, making to step around her and escape to my bedroom, but she caught my arm, her sharp eyes taking in the green stains on my newly washed dress. She gasped.

"Isabella! You've been out in the fields again, have you not?"

"No..." I said, knowing she saw straight through me, but reluctant to admit the truth all the same.

"Don't lie to me, Bella," she said, "I know you were with Edward." She sighed, exasperated, "Bella, I just had this washed clean for you." She gestured to my dress, "What have you been doing?"

When I silently said nothing, she sighed again, "Bella, why did you run from Victoria?" she asked gently, "She's been worried sick about you."

I dropped my gaze, already feeling ashamed of myself – my mother had that effect on me, "She wouldn't let me out, Mama."

My mother looked at me with her deep blue eyes, exactly the same shade as my sister, Alice's. I felt my face begin to burn under her scrutiny, before she said, "For good reason too. Bella, you know I disapprove of you going out alone. You must understand; when Victoria says you cannot go out, you cannot go out."

"But I am with Edward!" I retorted, "Nothing would happen to me."

"I am not worried about that, Bella, you know I know Edward would not let anything happen to you. I am worried because you know this behaviour is not suitable for a girl of your age. You needn't be running the fields – you should be here, with Victoria and Alice."

"But Mama, I don't like staying inside! Father doesn't care if I go out."

"Your father," she knelt down beside me, "Does not understand that this behaviour is not becoming."

"How is it not becoming?"

She sighed, "Why must you always question me?"

"Because I do not understand! Why can't I see Edward?" Our earlier conversation flashed through my mind, "Is it because he is our gardener's son? He said people would disapprove because he is not like us."

Something flashed across her face before she shook her head, "No, Bella; that has nothing to do with this. You know we consider Edward and his family as some of our closest friends...it is just that..." she heaved a deep sigh, then stood, "Know that I am not forbidding you from Edward, sweetheart; you two are good friends, and I would not have you lose him. But, be careful, Bella. There are those besides our family who would not approve of your friendship."

"Why?"

"I cannot explain to you now, Bella; you are too young." She took hold of my shoulders, "But, promise me you will be careful, and you will try to obey Victoria from now on. If I must, I will tell her to let you after tea only, and you must do that; understood?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good. Now, your father has requested you meet him in his study." She smiled then, the gesture lighting up her whole face; I felt my sullen mood dissipate – my mother also had that effect on everyone. When she smiled, no one else could help but smile with her. That quality was what made her one of the most well-loved women in the whole of Derbyshire. "Go on, off with you."

"Thank you, Mama!"

I threw her a wave as I dashed up the main staircase, skidding a little on the marble floor, my hair flying out behind me. I headed down the familiar route to my father's study, my shoes clapping loudly as I ran, throwing a wave at Elizabeth, Edward's mother, as I flashed past. She was Alice and I's tutor. Victoria, whilst skilled in the art of buttoning our dresses and shoes in a matter of moments, was not so skilled in languages or literature; this was where Elizabeth played a pa t. She was immensely shrewd and clever, and she had read more books than I had even heard of. She knew everything and anything, and she was a wonderful teacher.

Father had employed her, along with Edward Senior, my Edward's father, to tend to us, his children, and to his gardens, respectively. Edward Senior was also a remarkable gardener – he could name any plant we cared to point out to him, which entertained us all no end. He and my father, as I already knew, were very good friends, so much so that they ate with us on Sunday afternoons. They really were enjoyable company, nearly as interesting as Edward. But, again, no one could compare to him; my best friend, I thought, was definitely the most interesting person in the whole world. There wasn't anything Edward couldn't do, as he'd demonstrated, many times.

"Father!" I called, sliding in through the doorway, nearly falling straight onto my face, "I'm here!"

My sister, standing in front of his bureau, shot out a practised hand to catch my arm, steadying me as I coasted to a halt; my natural clumsiness was well-known in my household, and everyone was always on the lookout, lest I fall and manage to dangerously injure myself. I smiled at her and she giggled, her coal black curls swinging as she turned to face my father, who had simply raised one eyebrow. "Ah, Bella," he said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room, "How nice of you to join us."

"Good afternoon, father," I said politely – dignity at all times, as my mother said.

"Your mother told you I had need of you?"

"Yes, father."

"Good," he steepled his fingers, his eyes twinkling warmly, "Alice, you may go."

"Thank you, father," she grinned at him, and he winked.

"I'll see you later; make sure you bring your cap!" he called after her as she turned, racing out of the room – I heard her affirming shout, her voice drifting away as she left. "Now, Bells," my father looked at me, "Where, exactly, have you been? You missed lunch."

"With Edward," I answered, as if that explained everything.

"Ah. How is he?"

"He is well."

"Was there any reason Victoria returned from your walk together enraged and upset?"

I squirmed a little, twisting my fingers together in front of me, "I'm sorry, father."

"I know your mother has talked to you about this, so all I will say is that you should apologise to Victoria as soon as we are finished."

"Yes, father," I replied, relieved he would say nothing more on the matter. My father could be terrifying when he wanted to be, even though he was naturally genial. "Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked, more comfortable now that I knew the worst was over; he nodded, gesturing me to him. I wandered round the desk and sat on his proffered knee, wrapping my arms around his neck. He jiggled me a little, making me giggle, then sighed.

"Bells, I have something to ask of you."

"What?" I questioned, tilting my head, watching as his expression darkened a little, "Is something wrong, father?"

He was silent for a minute, then he said, "Bella...your Uncle has requested you come to stay with him for the summer."

"S-stay...with Uncle? Uncle Marcus? And Aunt Theodora, and-"

"And your cousins, yes." He sighed, "I take it you do not want to go?"

"Not in the slightest, father," I said, not afraid of speaking the truth; our families did not get along – my cousins and I were not the best of friends.

"Good," he replied, "I was just making sure. I must tell Marcus something."

"Why did you ask if you already knew?"

"In case you did want to go to stay with them."

"How likely would that be, father?" I asked, leaning back and giving him an arched look; he chuckled.

"Not likely at all, my rosebud."

"Why would he want _me_ to stay?" It made no sense. Clumsy, uncoordinated, misbehaving me? What would my Uncle want with me for an entire summer?

"It's complicated, petal," he said, rubbing a hand over his face, staining it a little with ink from his hands; I giggled and pointed it out to him.

"Father, you have ink on your nose."

He raised a brow, then turned, dipping his finger into his ink pot and quickly tapping the tip of my nose, smirking, "There: so do you."

I slapped his hand away, rubbing at the ink on my nose, then asked again, "But what would he want with me?"

"It's complicated, Bella," he repeated, "You would not understand; I do not completely. In short, he wishes you to be educated as his daughters have, and finds it appropriate to ask if he can take my children away from me and raise them how he wishes." His eyes darkened, and I bit the tip of my tongue, worried.

"Uncle does not like how we have been raised? Is he trying to take Alice and I away from you and Mama?"

Father blinked slightly, then shook his head, "No, no; nothing like that...he is just...concerned, is all." His following smile did not reach his eyes, "Well, Bella, run along, I have things to do."

"Father?"

"Go, Bella," he said firmly, "And if you see your mother, would you please tell her I wish to speak with her?"

"Of course," I replied, getting up off his knee, confused again. Everyone around me seemed to be talking in riddles today.

"You may go and see Edward, if you wish; I give you my permission."

"Really?" all my confusion vanished as I sprang towards him, hugging him round the waist, "Thank you, Papa!"

He laughed, "Just be careful, sweet. And would you ask his parents if they would join your mother and I for dinner tonight? Edward can come too, if he wishes."

"Alright, Papa, I'll tell them!"

"Slow down!" he called after me as I raced back out of the room, down the stairs, stopping for a second to inform my mother that my father wanted her, then across to the servants quarters.

We didn't have that many servants – my father, who was incredibly different from others in his views, as was my mother, did not view having endless ranks of them as a complete necessity. So, we had a cook, a housekeeper, a butler, two maids, a visiting physician, Victoria and Elizabeth, and a gardener, Edward's father. Our housekeeper, Mrs Turner, was a fearsome woman, with a fearsome temper to match. But, you could never meet a better darner in the whole of England – she had saved many a good pinafore from becoming a tablecloth.

They did not live separate from us; instead, my father had furnished their rooms beautifully, making it so their wing of the house resembled a modest town house than the base floor of a country estate. Edward and his family lived there too, in a three-roomed suite – two bedrooms and a small living room – with a garden filled with Mr Masen's wild flowers, surrounded by a white picket fence which my father and he had built together.

In reality, they had all become more than servants – to me, they were family.

"Edward!" I called, as I reached the west wing of the house, "Edward, where are you?"

"Slow down, Miss Bella!" Georgina called, as I skirted round her, carrying a wicker basket filled with freshly cleaned sheets, "You will do yourself harm!"

"Sorry, Georgina!"

I carried on regardless, hurrying down the sunny corridor, greeting people as I passed, finally reaching the Masen's door. I was about to knock, when Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, pulling it out from under my fist, "Oh, Miss Bella!" she smiled warmly, "What a pleasure to see you again."

I smiled back, "Good afternoon, Mrs Masen."

"I assume you came to call on Edward?" I blushed as I nodded, and she laughed, "Don't you two see enough of each other?"

"My father asked if you would dine with us this evening," I said quickly, changing the subject, which only made her gentle smile widen.

"I will go fetch Edward, and you can tell your father that we would all be delighted, as we always are. I have a question for you too, Bella, before I go."

"Yes?"

"Spell hyacinth for me."

My eyes widened – that was one of our spelling lessons this morning. I gulped, any letters I knew quickly fleeing from my mind. "Erm..."

"H, Y, A, C, I, N, T, H, mother," Edward suddenly appeared behind her, his green eyes sparkling; she laughed.

"I was quizzing Bella, Edward."

"Well, she didn't know. I was helping," he smiled at me, "Hello."

"Well, now you're here, I may as well go help your father tend to his _hyacinths_." She winked an eyelid at me then disappeared back inside with a, "Don't go far, Edward! And learn your spellings, Bella!"

I blushed as Edward grinned at me, "You're lucky I was here."

"I would have been fine," I countered as we both set off back up the hallway, "It just escaped me for a second, is all."

"Right." I glared at him and he smiled genially back, and as we entered the main hall he stopped me with a hand on my arm, "Bells."

"What?"

"You have ink on your nose."

"Oh," I coloured, "Yes."

"Here," he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed my skin, holding me still with one hand, his eyes nearly crossed in concentration. I felt myself blushing even more as he rolled his eyes, pulling me closer as the ink spot stubbornly remained. Somehow, I began to feel a little dizzy, even though my feet were firmly placed on the floor.

This...strange feeling had never happened before.

I bit the tip of my tongue, deciding that today was definitely the day of strangeness. I could not understand anything today. Maybe it was the sun.

"There," Edward clarified, letting me go, "Gone."

"T-thanks," I stammered uneasily, taking a breath to steady myself. Edward tiled his head, raising a brow at my obviously flustered state, then took my hand.

"Come on, let's go to the lake!"

And with that we hurried out – my mother was not happy when we both came back, soaked to the skin; Edward had pushed me in.

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**That bad Edward!**

**Heehee...I find I am sincerly enjoying 1700's Edward...thoughts? Am I getting the style of the time right? Any ideas, thoughts, opinions, would be appreciated in a REVIEW! They make me like this :D, which in turn makes me more quick in mon writing of le next chapter!**

**Love, ATO xxx**


	3. Waltz

**Hey everyone!**

**Sorry this took me so long again, but I promise my updates will be coming a little faster - it takes longer with this story, as it has to go through my Beta as well. Once or twice a week is as much as I'll be able to do.**

**But, keep reading, guys! I know there are people here who keep up with this story, so please review! Even though I don't rely on reviews for when I update, it's still a little downhearting when I don't get too many...Reviews make me like this :D which makes me more willing to wriiiiite.**

**Anyway, more exciting stuff coming up! I have the story basically nailed down now, so I know what you're all in for ;)**

**DISCLAIMER - I own nothing, as always**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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**

The next day was my birthday, and, as the oldest child of my small family, the day was to be highly celebrated, by order of my Uncle Marcus, a high duke of a place I couldn't really remember. He and his wife, Theodora, and my three cousins, Jane, Peter and Oliver, were wealthier and more important than us. As he was my father's elder brother, he was the official head of the Swan family, even though they lived in Hertfordshire.

"It's silly to have this ball," my father said to me that morning, as Alice helped me brush my hair – the servants were only for proper uses like cleaning and cooking, my father insisted, not for helping us dress or brush our hair or clean our room. As he constantly reminded us, servants were people too, and should be treated as such. Besides, we had a mother to help us clean up after ourselves. And we had a father, he'd winked, to teach us how to shoot pigeons.

That was one of Alice's favourite pastimes.

"Very silly," he said, coming in and picking me up, twirling me around as I shrieked and laughed, "Wouldn't you prefer just a small gathering, rosebud? Not one of these 'magnificent' celebrations? Don't you become one of those silly snobbish women, my girl." I giggled as he set me on his knee and tugged lightly at my naturally curled hair.

"What do you mean, father?" Alice asked, the brush halting mid-way through her locks, which she had begun to brush.

"I mean, bee," he said – his nickname for her was bee; very appropriate, in Alice's case –"Your uncle would have you become young, high society ladies, but I'm having none of it. You are different." He became suddenly serious, bringing Alice into the hug too, "Both of you. Don't let me see you acting any different than you are, because you two are special. Always remember that."

I had always been aware of the differences between my uncle and my own father – something brewed between them, always simmering under the surface whenever we visited them and they both sat at either ends of the table, glaring each other down. My mother and my aunt did not get along either; I didn't know precisely what the problem was, but I got the feeling that my aunt disapproved of mine and Alice's behaviour. We were allowed to laugh and play and run about as we pleased, whilst our cousins sat demurely and read, or practised their arithmetic and writing.

My Uncle may have had control, but I knew my father didn't agree with him in the slightest.

"I will, Father," I said solemnly, and Alice echoed me before laughing.

"But I'll never give up my dresses, Father. Never! You can't make me!"

"Can't I?" he chased her out of our room, both of them laughing manically, just as my mother walked in; she skirted them narrowly, laughing too as she sat herself down on my bed.

She looked me up and down approvingly before asking: "Are you ready, Bella?"

"Almost," I shifted uncomfortably, "but my buttons are too tight. Would you fix them, Mama?"

"Of course I will, darling," she said, loosening my buttons and retying them so I could breathe properly. Then she bade me stand so she could take a better look at me. "Perfect," she smiled, tweaking the bow in my curled hair with a slight smile.

"Not compared to you, Mama," I replied truthfully – my mother was one of the most beautiful women I knew.

"But this isn't my day, Bella," she said, "It's yours."

"I wish it wasn't," I shuffled my feet, my eyes dropping to the floor, "I do hate parties."

"You'll be fine," my mother said, kneeling down beside me in her simple dress – she wasn't one for finery either – and chucking my chin, "Edward will be there." I had been specifically told that, even though the Masens were our good friends, and Edward my best, no one could be told that they were in fact our sevants - in the very loose sense of the word. My mother had said that was the only way that they would be able to attend without being taunted and ridiculed by the rest of the guests, who apparently did not understand their relationship with us. I didn't understand why they would be taunted and ridiculed, since they were people, just like everyone else, but my mother assured me that it must be done, if I wanted Edward to be there.

And I did want him to be there - I couldn't do it without him.

"They won't make me dance, will they?" Out of all the things I was good at – reading, writing, a little singing – dancing was not one of them.

"It's your party, Bells. No one can make you do anything. Not even your father."

"I guess..." I mumbled, still reluctant; my mother laughed at my expression, then took my hand.

"Come, everyone is waiting for you."

We descended the main staircase, very carefully – both of us were quite prone to tripping – and I could hear the multitude of voices coming closer and closer until we reached the closed doors of the main reception room.

"Are you ready?" my mother asked me, and I took a deep breath, then nodded. "Remember, Bella," she said softly, "Dignity at all times, even if you have tripped over your shoes."

I laughed reluctantly, straightening up, then the doors swung open and I was greeted with a chorus of, "Happy Birthday Isabella!"

There were three cries of "Bella!" from my father, my little sister, and Edward, who I could hear, but not see. The girls who lived in town and in estates nearby – who were my friends, I supposed – gathered round me, all squealing and laughing in the most high-pitched of voices, so much so that it hurt my ears.

After much gushing over my dress and hair, I managed to escape, pressing myself against a wall and trying to melt through it, already hating the attention.

"Happy birthday," a quiet voice whispered in my ear, and I jumped, turning to the tall, lean figure who suddenly stood beside me.

"Edward, don't do that!"

He laughed, leaning up against the wall beside me and grinning, "I didn't get you a proper gift, like you told me, but I did get you this." He handed me a soft, woollen pouch, which was slightly weighted, tied with a red ribbon.

"Edward, I told you not to!"

"I know," he shrugged, his grin positively impish, "but I wanted to."

"You never listen to what I ask anyway," I grimaced, taking in the offending gift sitting in my hand whilst he chuckled.

"True. Now, open it, before you start to become rude. I'm sure not accepting a hand-made present is definitely bad behaviour."

I had been about to retort when I caught the words 'hand-made'. "You made this yourself?"

"Well, not completely. I strung it together, if that's what you mean..."

Edward grinned crookedly, and I raised a brow at him, before sighing and turning the pouch over in my hand, so the gift landed on my palm. I gasped, before looking back up at Edward with shining eyes, "Edward, it is wonderful!"

He had given me a charm bracelet; silver, and adorned with two tiny charms. A B, carved out of the same silver metal, and a forget-me-not flower, beautifully detailed down to the last degree. "Your favourite flower," he confirmed, taking it from me and securing it round my wrist; it was too large, so I was sure it would still be wearable when I was grown up, "and a reminder for you, so you can remember me when you are off at your high society functions and what not."

His smile was teasing, but his eyes contained a slight seriousness; as if he were afraid I would need this reminder. "Edward..." I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, "Thank you; it's beautiful, though I don't think I'll need it. I'll never forget you."

He simply smiled still as we pulled back – not agreeing completely. "Happy Birthday," he murmured quietly. I bit the tip of my tongue, my hands still joined with his – they were tingling strangely – and I was about to retort, when someone else spoke.

"Edward!" My father called from across the room; he was standing by the piano. We both jumped apart as the crowd of guests turned to us, and I stood on my toes so I could see my father. Edward didn't have to – he was tall enough already. "Come on, Edward," my father shouted boisterously, beckoning to him, his signature smile stretching across his features, "Play for us!"

Edward flushed and began to shake his head, but I took his hand again and smiled up at him, suddenly taking in just how very green his eyes were, "Yes, do, Edward!" Edward was the most wonderful piano player – I knew of no one who matched his skill.

"Bella..."

"Please?" I put on my best pleading face, and Edward sighed, then smiled a little.

"Alright." He leaned in and whispered, "But only because it's you." He chuckled, "And you're coming with me."

"Pardon?"

He simply laughed again, letting go my hand and offering his arm instead, "The guest of honour should have the prime seat for my performance." He led me to our – his, in truth, as it had always been – piano, amidst the dignified applause of the guests, my father's the loudest of all.

He gestured to the seat beside him, and I blushed as I sat, aware of everyone's eyes on the both of us. The room was silent as Edward placed his hands gently on the keys, and began to play.

The silence grew reverent as Edward entranced everyone – it seemed as though we had been taken to another world, where all of everything was made from the beautiful music that Edward coaxed from the piano. I was aware of myself smiling proudly, watching my best friend where he belonged, serenading us all with a song that, unusually, I didn't recognise.

This was a new piece; I had never heard it before. I was always the first to hear Edward's compositions, and I wondered why he had hid this one from me.

It was, though, truly beautiful; I watched him, knowing my eyes were shining. His were closed, his mouth set into a small smile as he played.

I closed my eyes soon after, luxuriating in the sound, letting it fill me up – the song was achingly sweet, yet a slightly serious, masked sadness lay beneath the main melody that made my stomach twist and a lump appear in my throat.

Until the melody ended, I wasn't aware of anything else but the music. As Edward played the last note – a high, sweet and sad note – there was a stunned silence as the sound trailed away into nothing. Then, as they all burst into rapturous applause, I opened my eyes, suddenly gasping for air as I realised I hadn't taken a breath. As I heard someone call, "Best bloody piano player I've ever heard!" I coughed, and Edward put a gentle hand on my arm.

"Are you alright?"

I nodded, "Edward...that was beautiful!" He nodded modestly, as the audience descended into chatter, their continuous noise concealing our conversation, "Did you compose it?"

"I did," he replied quietly.

"Who was it about?" I inquired; all of Edward's compositions were based on people – his mother, Elizabeth, or his father, Edward Senior...there was one for Alice, my mother, my father...even for our family dog. There was not one for me, though, simply because, as Edward said, he hadn't found the notes for it yet. I saw that as a compliment rather than an insult.

Edward's gaze was unfathomable as he looked back at me – it seemed as if he was debating on something. He opened his mouth, then closed it again; I cocked my head.

"Edward?"

He cleared his throat, "It was about someone I care for deeply. Someone I love."

"But it was so sad!" I protested; Edward nodded again.

"I know."

Something in his face confused me – I couldn't read him. But before I could ask, everyone began to cry for an encore, and Edward sent me a small smile before starting up on the tune composed for my mother, whilst she laughed and, upon hearing it, swept my father onto the floor and began to dance. As others followed, I sat back on the stool beside Edward, my hands between my knees, pondering what had just occurred.

*

Later, when the musicians had taken over from Edward, we both sat in a secluded corner, watching everyone else talk and dance; neither of us had a particular inclination to be part of it, but then a slow song drifted through the crowd and Edward suddenly shifted up in his chair.

"Let's dance, Bella."

"Pardon?"

"Come on, Bells," Edward encouraged me, "You know how. Let's go and dance!"

"Are you insane, Edward?" I murmured to him, "You know I can't dance."

"Yes you can," he insisted, "I taught you. And I am the best teacher there is."

I tried to look sceptical, my resolve already wavering as he sent me one of his smiles; the twinkle in his eye was hard to say no to. "Alright," I sighed, taking his outstretched hand, "Alright, I'll dance with you."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, "It's an honour."

His face was deadly serious, and, for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure what he was trying to say. I didn't understand what he meant. He took my hand, leading me through to the middle of the dancers, who stepped aside to let us through. Then he swept me round, one hand going to my waist – I recognised the music as the waltz, a newly fashionable dance that was quickly become the trend for society all over the country. There was not one girl my age, including myself, who didn't know how to waltz. My mother had made sure, through Edward, that I was instructed in the way of the waltz, lest, as she said, I fall behind society, which, even though I didn't understand why, was something to be dreaded and avoided at all costs.

"Now, just how I taught you," Edward murmured, prompting me with a, "One, two three."

I found out that dancing – with Edward – was easy; I laughed delightedly, loving the feeling as he twirled me around, laughing with me. This was easy, and we were easy. I smiled at him, knowing he meant just as much to me as did my parents, or my sister. Edward returning smile was lopsided, and it again held something that I couldn't quite understand.

When had Edward become so...confusing?

I spotted Alice, my eleven year old younger sister, spinning inexpertly with a boy who looked about her age; he had a mass of blonde, curly hair and was much taller than she. I smiled at them too, watching as Alice giggled at something he'd said. It was nice that she had company too – my little sister was considered to be an oddity by the other girls her age, what with her continual energy and her obsessions with dresses and shooting pigeons.

"That's Jasper," Edward said, catching my gaze, "Your father took him on as John's apprentice." John was our coachman, and he also cared for the horses and stables.

"Oh," I said, neutrally, watching him – he seemed to be having a very good time with my little sister. "They seem to get along well."

Edward smiled, "I know. Jasper finds Alice very...intriguing."

"That's nice..." I murmured, "She could do with a friend like I have." I smiled at him and he smiled back.

"You think too highly of me, you know."

"You think too highly of me," I countered; Edward didn't disagree. We continued dancing, spinning in gentle circles, talking aimlessly, easy as always. I smiled proudly to myself when he looked away, towards his mother and father – nothing could get in between us, nor would I let it.

Edward would be my best friend for as long as I lived.

As the song drew to a close, Edward twirled me in a final flourish, then bowed, his grin slightly mocking, crooked to one side, "Thank you for the dance, my lady."

I laughed, curtsying back, "The pleasure was all yours, I assure you."

Edward laughed then too; I took his arm, suddenly aware of all the eyes on us. I blushed involuntarily, looking down towards my slippered feet, shifting a little closer to Edward, embarrassed. We made our way to our seats by the wall, then Edward Senior called, and I was left alone.

Not for long, though, it seemed.

"Who was that you were dancing with?" Annette asked, sitting down in Edward's chair and cornering me so I couldn't escape.

"Edward," I said stiffly – I didn't think I wanted to share him.

"He is handsome," she sighed, and I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to dissuade her.

"Who is he?"

I didn't answer, not wanting to tell her that he was the son of the gardener. I didn't think it was because I was embarrassed, something inside me cautioned against it, a voice in my head suggesting that it would not be a good idea. But for what reason, I wasn't sure.

"You're in love him!" Annette suddenly giggled girlishly; I threw her a look, trying not to make it too obvious that she was irritating me.

"Pardon?"

"You're in love him!"

"He's my best friend, Annette, of course I love him," I sighed, but Annette shook her head.

"Don't you read, Isabella?" Much more than you... "Being in Love is when you like somebody so much...that you like them more than anyone else in the world!" She giggled again, "and you want to kiss them, and _dance _with them..."

I didn't miss the stress on dance.

"So what does this have to do with me?"

"You. Edward. You're in love with him."

"No I'm not!" I wasn't completely sure that being IN love was different from how I loved Edward, but Annette seemed to think it meant more.

"You are!" She insisted, "You will marry him just like your mother married your father!"

I understood a little more when she said that, but I was still sure it had nothing to do with Edward. At least, I thought it didn't.

"You are in love with him!"

"I'm not." I looked at her crossly, then muttered, "How can it have happened if I wasn't looking for it?"

Annette said something quite wise then, though I didn't understand it at the time.

"You don't find love. Love finds you."

I crossed my arms and looked away, towards Edward, who was, at the moment, talking with his father. He caught me looking at him and sent me a smile – it lit up his face, and something happened to my heart.

Annette was still babbling, but her voice faded away as I watched Edward's profile, his sparkling green eyes creasing a little at the edges as he grinned with Edward Senior.

It was only then that I noticed in full how tall he had become, and how much the colour of his hair suited him. I titled my head to the side, biting the tip of my tongue, wondering how I'd never noticed how incredibly handsome Edward actually was.

He felt me staring, I was sure, and again he looked back at me, his eyes narrowing a little as he asked me, silently, shrugging a little, "Yes?"

I shrugged back, as if to say, "Nothing." But it wasn't really nothing. If he'd been next to me he would have known I was lying.

He didn't stop watching me, his head cocked to the side too, imitating me, still looking confused. I sent him a small smile, and he smiled lopsidedly back, and my heart began to jump around again, my stomach twisting as it used to when I heard noises in the night. I felt my face grow red hot, and I looked down and away, embarrassed.

It was then I knew for sure something was different. I was never embarrassed around Edward.

I found myself jumpy and distracted for the rest of the night, hardly able to hold down a conversation with anyone except Edward, who appeared later by my side, asking whether anything was wrong. I'd gone to bed that night with my head full of Edward, for a reason I didn't know.

Annette's words echoed as I drifted away.

_You don't find love. Love finds you._

I was thirteen years of age when I found out about love.

Found out what it was, what it meant; but it wasn't until years later that I realised I had fallen in love right at that moment. In that single moment, love had found me.

* * *

**Ooh...a little more interseting stuff there for you guys to look at. **

**Who do you think the song was for, and why do you think it was sad? Theories? I would love to hear them!**

**Keep reading and reviewing!**

**Love, ATO xxx  
**


	4. Truth

**Sorry for the wait...my Beta didn't Beta this for me, and I spent a long time waiting...so I decided to just update, because I've kept you all waiting so long!**

**Here we get to see PIRATEward :D Edward as a Pirate.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIEMR - I own the fantasy world...well, not really, since it's all just history. But SM owns the characters!**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

* * *

**

"Avast, ye landlubbers! Get yerselves gone before I make ye walk the plank!"

I was reading my book by the shore as Edward kicked about in the shallow water of the river that bordered our grounds, his trousers rolled up to his knees, an imaginary cutlass in his hand.

"Ar!"

"Edward," I snapped my book shut, unable to bear it any longer, "Can you please stop shouting 'ar'? That's not the only word that pirates say."

He crossed his arms, turning towards me, abruptly dropping his piratey pretence, "And what would you know of pirates?"

"A great deal, judging from what I've read."

"Yes!" Alice agreed from her place on a knoll, swinging her legs, "Bella's read so many pirate novels, she must know more than anyone!"

"Agreed," Jasper said quietly, smiling up at Alice from where he sat on the bank below; Edward narrowed his eyes at us all.

"You would all be sorry if I ever were to become a pirate!" he swore; I laughed, Alice's twinkle and Jasper's deepening bass joining my own. Edward scowled, and I placed my book down beside me, still laughing as I stood.

"Oh, Edward, don't be distressed – you know we are just poking fun. I'm sure we would all be very sorry if you were to become a pirate." I struggled to remain serious, but the idea of Edward in a hat and eyepatch was simply too much to bear, and I broke down into laughs again, along with the others. "Really...we would be."

As I bent over double, attempting to contain myself, I didn't notice Edward advancing on me until he suddenly swept me up into his arms, hat and all, and I gasped. "You're going to be very sorry very soon," he growled, deliberately throwing me a foot in the air as he proceeded back towards the river, making me scream.

"Don't you dare, Edward!"

He ignored my struggles, splashing into the water, taking my hat off my head and throwing it back onto the bank, "We wouldn't want to get it wet," he whispered to me, his eyes sparkling in what could only be called a wicked way; I pounded my fists on his chest.

"Edward, let me go!"

His grin widened as he swung me gently, "One..."

"Edward!"

"Two..."

"Edward, no!"

"Three-"

"Edward Anthony Masen!" This scream was not mine – I opened my eyes, which I'd scrunched up, ready for the icy-cold grip of the river water, and found Elizabeth standing atop the hill which concealed the curve in the river, "What are you doing? Put Bella down at once!"

"Put her down? Of course, Mother!" He made to let me go, and I shrieked, clutching at him all the tighter, determined not to go anywhere near the water.

"Edward! I meant put her down on the bank!" She looked behind her suddenly, to where my mother was holding a garden party, "Coming, Ren!" She glanced back, "I must go, but if I see one drop of water on her..." She drew her hand across her throat in an absurdly piratey way, and Edward's eyes widened.

I smirked at him as Elizabeth disappeared, "Thank you, Edward."

He raised a brow, "I'll get you some other day, Isabella Swan."

"Hardly," I disagreed, promptly shrieking soon after as he threw me in the air again, "EDWARD!"

He chuckled evilly as he waded back to the bank, "Relax, Bella, I wasn't really going to throw you in."

As he set me down I twirled, throwing my hands into the water and pushing them up, splashing him, covering the front of his clothes with water. Alice and Jasper both burst into laughter as Edward shook his sodden head like a dog, spluttering, whilst I stumbled back, clutching my sides, laughing too.

"Bella!" he screeched in outrage; I danced backwards as he ran at me.

"Too slow, Edward!"

His eyes narrowed, and before I knew it, he was chasing me, arms outstretched, ready to catch me by the waist and properly throw me into the river this time. I shrieked and ran for it, my hair and dress whipped by the wind as I shot over the hill, my feet pounding across the grass, gasping as I laughed still.

I was barely aware of the well-dressed ladies taking tea on the lawn as I rushed past them, their gasps inaudible, and my mother's shout of, "Isabella!" inconsequential. Edward did not seem to care either; he was gaining on me. We ran through the grounds, around one side of the house, out of sight of the garden party.

I looked back, then I tripped, coming to an abrupt halt as I wheeled my arms through the air, trying to keep my balance. Edward took his chance, and within a few seconds he had caught me round the waist, picking me up. I giggled as he began to spin me round and round, my body straightening out, my feet flying through the air, my arms locked about his neck. His smiling face was all I could see as the world spun around me, the grass and the trees and the white brick walls turning into flashes of colour that flew by so fast I could not catch more than a mere glimpse of them.

"Edward!" I laughed, hardly able to speak, "Stop it!"

He was laughing too as he slowly coasted to a halt, letting me go but keeping a grip on the tops of my arms, lest I should fall due to my dizziness. I swayed a little, giggling, then shook my head, clearing it a little. "Are you alright?" he asked, but before I could reply, two furious shouts echoed through the gardens.

"Isabella Marie Swan!"

"Edward Anthony Masen!"

We both glanced at each other in fear.

Our mothers rounded the corner – Elizabeth in her smart, blue striped chiffon dress, and my mother in her silk rose, the one she always wore when entertaining – identical looks of fury on their faces. Edward and I both shrank back as they approached.

"Isabella, what on earth do you think you are doing, embarrassing me like that?!" Elizabeth was standing next to Edward – he was her height, but she still managed to look taller than him – but she wasn't shouting like my mother. They were talking quietly, but I could not hear what they were saying as my mother half hissed, "Isabella! Answer me!" Her anger was frightening me, and I shuffled my feet, blushing as an involuntary reaction.

"I am sorry, mother." It was all I could say. I hung my head, ashamed, knowing what I had done. I had ruined my mother's afternoon tea by rushing through – she had told me times enough that it was unladylike to run and scream.

"You are going inside. Now." She pointed towards the corner, around which lay the main entrance. I sighed, still looking at the ground, and set off, expecting Edward to go with me. But, when I looked to my right, he wasn't there. I turned, to find Edward and his mother heading the other way, towards the back – my mother narrowed her eyes at me. "Go."

"Mother-"

"Go!"

I really did go then, not stopping until I reached my room – I found Alice playing there, making horses gallop across the windowsill. She looked around, rolling her eyes. "Good going, Bella. Mother sent me inside halfway through my game with Jasper. Now I cannot go outside again, nor see Jasper."

"Sorry, Al," I apologised, falling onto my bed with a sigh, curling up into a ball and pressing my face into the bedclothes. I heard my sister sit down beside me, the mattress trembling as she bounced a little.

"So," she said.

"So?" I asked, not looking at her.

I heard her sigh, "What happened?"

"Edward chased me through her tea gathering. I was screaming."

"Oh." She nudged me gently, "Bella, you know Mama does so hate when we embarrass her in front of company."

"I was not thinking, Alice."

"I guessed that," she replied, as sarcastically as can be said for an eleven-year-old.

"I don't understand how she could be so very upset," I said, rolling over so I was lying on my back, "I mean – she never usually shouts at me like she did."

"Maybe these people were very important," Alice suggested, lying down beside me and kicking her feet in the air carelessly.

"Maybe," I agreed, still pondering. It was unlike my mother to be so upset over something like this. Usually one of us either had to break something or kick each other for her to raise her voice. Her shouts still stung as if she had slapped me.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair – my father was out on business, not due to return until tonight, and my mother was still in a mood with me. I had been confined to my room the entire afternoon with Alice. Edward had disappeared too – I did not see him wandering the grounds as he would most afternoons, and when I asked Victoria if I might see him, I was told that he was unavailable.

God knew what that meant; the only conclusion I could draw was that he was being punished much as I was.

That night, I was standing at the door of my parent's sleeping quarters, debating whether I should go inside and ask to see my mother – I felt as if I had to apologise for upsetting her as I obviously had. I bit the tip of my tongue, taking a step inside, but then I heard loud footsteps and voices approaching from behind me, and I panicked. Technically, I was not allowed in here without my mother or father's permission.

The curtains, swinging in the breeze from the open double doors, caught my attention, and I immediately ran to them, sliding behind just as my mother and father entered the room, in the middle of a heated argument.

"What would you have me do, Renee?" I heard my father say from my place pressed into the wall beside the open double doors, behind the thick, heavy curtain, "Forbid her from seeing him? He's her best friend, darling."

"But Charles-"

"Renee, you know I cannot!"

"I do know," my mother sighed; there was a creaking of a chair – she must have sat down, "I know."

"Renee, there is nothing that needs to be done; Edward is not harming her."

"But her reputation, Charles!"

"What reputation? She is thirteen!" My father sounded exasperated.

"Charles, you did not see what she did today! Do not know what all the mothers thought to see our daughter shrieking and running like some town urchin, pursued by a raggedy young man! It is not ladylike, nor is it becoming in any way! I daren't think of what they thought of her!"

"Does it matter, Renee? She is thirteen: she's allowed to be a child. And what difference does Edward make?"

"Do you not see, Charles?" my mother said, "What will she do when others her age find out she is spending all of her time with a servant's boy?"

"Renee!" my father gasped, his tone shocked; my mother groaned.

"I must be frank, Charles! She is not seven years old anymore: these things matter now. She must establish her place in society if she is to become as great as you want her to be, you know that! Edward is not good for her!"

"Renee, be reasonable! We cannot separate them; you know what it would do to Bella. She would be devastated. How could you do that to her, Ren?"

My mother's voice broke as she shouted, "Charles, it's what's best for her!"

"Renee, please..."

"We should consider sending her to her Uncle's."

There was a silence – shocked, on my part – then my father spoke.

"Ren," my father's voice softened, and I heard and saw his feet move, coming closer to hers, "Since when have we cared about what society thinks of us? I married well below my station – my whole family disapproved of our love, but did that stop me? Did I let anything stop me from marrying you, my little scullery maid?"

My eyes widened as I took this information in. My mother had been a scullery maid?!

"We cannot attempt to tear Edward and Bella apart – it is not our place. It may be what is best for her in society's eyes, but it is not what is best for _her_. We said to each other we would raise our children differently: teach them the values we stood for. We cannot let our children be tarnished by society's ideals, my love. We said we would not, and so we shall not. Taking Bella away from Edward will not assist her in any way. Our Bella is different, no matter what we do, as is Alice. They will always be different – we made them that way."

"We have made life harder for them."

"No, we have not. We have shown them the better way of living – the way to be wonderful, and kind; the way to be good members of the world we live in. Remember what it was like for us, Renee; remember how society hurt us. We cannot let those same people hurt our children – they are the proof."

"The proof of what?" she sniffed; I poked my head around the heavy velvet curtain, to see them both sat together, on the small divan, my mother's head on my father's shoulder.

He was stroking her hair, both their faces obscured from my view as he replied, "The proof of defiance. That love can defy everything – even society."

"He loves her," my mother whispered, "I know he does."

"Ren..."

"She's going to love him too."

"Renee, please..."

"What can we do, Charlie?" my mother asked, using the name for my father that he only allowed her to use, "They will hurt her."

I could take it no more. I turned and slipped through the garden doors of my mother and father's reception room, into the darkening night, unable to stay any longer. All this confusion – my parents were turning into people I couldn't understand.

Were they planning on taking Edward away from me?

I hurried round to the servant's entrance, fighting tears as I imagined what they might be planning. My father had mentioned my Uncle wanted me to stay, and now...was my mother considering it? Where they going to take me away from my home, and leave me to live with the strict and disciplined people that were my Aunt and Uncle?

I wouldn't be sent away. I wouldn't let them.

The mere thought of it filled me with dread.

As I approached the door into the servant's quarters, I caught sight of a lonely figure sitting on the stairs.

"Edward!"

He looked up – I could see in the fading light that he didn't smile. "Hello, Bella."

I sat down beside him, burying my face in my hands, still trying to hold back the tears – there was silence. Edward was still beside me as I pressed my fingers into my eyes, determined not to cry.

After a few minutes, Edward finally said, "Bella? What's wrong?"

I sniffed, not looking up. "Nothing, Edward, nothing at all. I am fine."

He saw straight through me. "Bella?" he asked again, putting a hand on my arm, squeezing gently.

"They're going to take you away from me!" I finally burst out, and then I began to cry, confused and angry tears leaking down my cheeks as I thought of the unfairness of it all – I glanced up, and Edward looked shocked.

"Take me away? What do you mean?"

"Mama and Father! They're going to send me away to Uncle's, and they're going to take you away because they think...because they think..." I hiccoughed, "Oh, I do not know why, but they are!"

"Bella," he said gently, patting my arm, "I'm sure they are not."

"Mama said...she said..."

"Said what, Bells?"

I rubbed my eyes, sniffing, "I don't understand, Edward. Why would she think that you weren't good for me? Why would she say that we needed to be separated?"

I felt him stiffen beside me, "Bells..."

"Father said she used to be a scullery maid!" I continued, "Can you believe that? He married a scullery maid! Can you imagine what people must have thought of that?!" Edward's serious expression didn't change, and then, suddenly, everything fell into place. Why my mother was angry. Why I had embarrassed her. Why she wanted to take me away from Edward – to take me away from here.

It wasn't just my behaviour...it was Edward.

"You...," I gasped, my eyes widening, "You..."

"Bella, what are you talking about?"

"You're the scullery maid!" I exclaimed, in something like horror.

He shook his head, frowning, "Bella, you are making no sense."

"You are my scullery maid!" Everything made sense now, "My father married my mother, even though everyone would have disapproved...just as they disapprove of us. And you know this...don't you?"

Abruptly, his confusion vanished, and he nodded slowly and silently.

"My mother... she..." Edward nodded again, and my hand drifted to my mouth as I took in a shaky breath, "They...don't like us...but you're..."

"My best friend."

He suddenly pulled me into a hug, his arm going around my shoulders, shushing me, "Bella, it's alright...don't worry..."

I was still taking everything in, "My mother...they..."

"I know, Bells...I know. Don't be sad."

"Sad? Why should I be sad?"

I looked up at him – his dark eyebrows were knitted together as he frowned, "We won't be able to see each other anymore now you realise that we cannot?"

"Pardon?!" I squeaked.

"Do you not see it, Bells? I have been trying to tell you – we are different. We come from different worlds. We cannot be friends." His eyes were filled with sadness, which made me angry.

"Why ever not? I don't care."

"You don't?"

"Of course I don't." Everything was becoming clear to me now. Just because we were unalterably different, that much was true...it didn't mean we had to act different. It didn't mean anything had to change. "Edward, you are my best friend. That's all you need to be, for me. I don't care whether you are the gardener's son: that means nothing to me. You're my best friend."

"But, Bella-"

"Edward. I do not care." I fixed him with my sternest look, "Do you?"

He was silent, then he sighed.

"No. I don't."

I sighed then too, in relief, leaning against him again, "I'm happy, then." I was silent for a minute, then something my mother had said just before I fled made me ask, "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"My mother said something..."

"What?"

I replied, very quietly, unsure whether I should say it.

"She said you loved me."

I felt him stiffen beside me, obviously spooked, and I quickly backtracked, "I do not think she meant it in a...I mean..."

"I love you as my best friend, Bella," he said, his voice strangely forced, as if he had trouble saying it, "Nothing more. I am sure your mother only meant that we like each other too much for it to be an easy seperation."

I thought I understood.

We sat there together for a while, then I turned my face into his chest, suddenly reminded of why I had been sad before. "What's wrong, Bella?" Edward asked, hugging me a little tighter.

"What if they do take you away? What would I do without you? What if I'm left here, all alone?" Along with the epiphanies tonight had brought, came another thought. What it would be like to be without my best friend – somehow, I knew it would hurt. As much as losing my mother, father, or sister would hurt.

I did not consider Edward to be a brother – our relationship had never felt like the bond Alice and I shared...but I simply knew that it would be incredibly painful to lose him.

"I won't let them take me," he replied, "And if, for some reason, I do ever have to leave," he whispered, his hand gently stroking my hair, "You keep a worthy eye on that horizon, because I will always return for you. Always."

"Promise? Promise you will stay with me, no matter what happens? No matter what they say?" I whispered, needing confirmation.

"I promise," he replied solemnly – then he did something that he had never done before. As I looked away, out onto the grounds, sighing in relief, I felt him suddenly press a kiss to the top of my head.

That kiss, inexplicably, lingered in my mind for the rest of the night.

* * *

**I really wasn't sure if I had made Bella realise their problems too early...but, sadly, my Beta seems to have disappeared, so I had to do this without her guidance. Sigh.**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Tell me your views, since i did this one alone. What do you think Edward thought about Bella's love comment, hmmmm?**

**Oh, and, by the way, your guesses were particulaly shrewd about that last chapter...but all shall be revealed as the story progresses.**

**That's all for now!**

**Love, ATO xxx  
**


	5. Havoc

**Guys...theres nothing I can say. I'm so sorry this took so long! Life is getting ahead of me, exams, tests, work...I really lost my inspiriation, and it took a very long bus ride and a helpful friend for me to figure my way in again. But I got it! I know what I'm doing...expect a little more regular updates now :D**

**Hope you haven't all given up on me...I haven't given up on you, my lovely readers!**

**DISCLAIMER - I own nothing.**

**Previous (just a reminder) - Bella has found out about the divisions between her and Edward. Edward has promised that this will spell no changes in their already changing relationship....three years on, Bella has turned sixteen.**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

* * *

**As the day of my sixteenth birthday dawned, two years since Edward had made his promise to me, I awoke with the sun in my eyes – and, as ever, the knowledge that nothing had changed.

I turned away from the window, as I always did, and stared at the wall, willing myself to feel different. Older. Wiser. More ready for whatever trials my quickly approaching adulthood would bring. Less young and afraid – like some new understanding of the world had suddenly become known to me.

But, disappointingly...nothing felt different. Nothing was different. My name was Isabella Marie Swan, my parents were Charles and Renee Swan, my little sister was Mary Alice Swan. My best friend was Edward Anthony Masen, whose parents were Elizabeth and Edward Masen.

It was July, 1798.

And: it was the windiest day I'd seen for a long time.

That morning, as I sat in the living room with my mother and sister, a book left open and forgotten on my lap, I stared out the window, tapping my foot up and down on the wooden floor, desperate to get outside. Finally, after five minutes of fidgeting, I gave up. Turning around, I tried to look pleading as I gazed at my mother in her rocking chair, "Mama, please? Please may I go out?"

She set down her embroidery, fixing me with a knowing stare, "Bella, you are sixteen now. Do you really need to go out on a day like this? You can see Edward any other day of the year, so why today? You don't have time! You know we are preparing to go to your Uncle's this afternoon." I'd known, since I was fourteen, exactly what she was thinking – I was always careful nowadays to never push the boundaries of my friendship with Edward, lest my mother should crack and split us apart, as she had once threatened, albeit without the knowledge I was in the room at the time, of course.

Still, even though I knew – she did not know I knew...and here lay the key...the, 'piece de resistance', you might say.

Since she did not know I understood why she secretly did not like me spending all my time with Edward, I could press my case with the blissful knowledge that my ignorance would see me through. My mother, worried as she was, loved me. She did not want me to know the ruthless nature of the world and harsh measures some members took to stay within the good judgement of the all knowing 'society'.

And so, she could not stop me, not without letting me in on the secret that would – and had – changed my world forever.

I was not as naive as I was at fourteen.

I sighed, exasperated, "Of course I know that, Mama – which means I will not see Edward for the whole time we are there! And must we go? It is only yet another ball Uncle feels I must have for my birthday, when I would rather stay here." This was a tender subject – my Father and I both did not want to attend, nor go anywhere near Hertfordshire, but Mama insisted.

"I know that, Isabella," Mama frowned, "But we cannot refuse a direct invitation from your Uncle, and he has insisted. Therefore: we must go."

"All the more reason for me to go out! It's a windy day, Mama! Edward and I always go out on windy days, you know that."

She sighed, a slight smile gracing her tired face, "I know."

Mother sat there, her head tilted to the side, then she held her arms out, "Come here, Bella." I did, letting her sit me at her feet, her small, soft hands gently untangling my hair, setting each knot straight. "Edward means a lot to you, doesn't he?" she said, and I nodded mutely, not wanting to tell her how I had found nowadays that the line of how much Edward meant to me was beginning to blur. She gave a little sigh, then waved her hands at me, "Alright, alright, darling, go!"

"Thank you, Mama!"

"But be back before noon!" she called out, "You need to get ready, and so does Edward!"

I skidded to a halt, halfway out the door.

"Pardon?" I turned and found my mother was suddenly grinning – she smiled less and less these days, but whenever she found the time her smile never failed to light up the room, her blue eyes always sparkling.

"Your Father insisted that we should bring Edward along – since you shall not know anyone and Alice has your cousins to keep her company. We thought it was only fair, since it is your birthday, and it is your, albeit unnecessary, celebration."

"Really, Mama?!"

She nodded, "Yes, really."

I shrieked in joy and ran to her, throwing my arms about her neck whilst Alice laughed, "Edward is accompanying us? Oh, thank you, Mama, so much!" My day was already looking up.

"Of course, your Father has had some proper clothes fetched for him, since your Uncle would never approve of Edward unless he were properly dressed." My mother winked, "Do make sure that you and Edward pick out a good selection before we leave, won't you?"

"Of course, Mama! Thank you! I shall go find him now!"

At once I tore out of the room and down the stairs, almost giddy with joy, swooping past Alice and Jasper who were making their way up the hall. "Where is the fire?" Alice called, Jasper laughing beside her – they had become very close, and I hardly ever saw one without the other these days – and I didn't bother to stop as I shouted back:

"Have you seen Edward?"

It was Jasper who answered me, "Piano!"

"Thank you!"

It took me no time at all to get there, and as soon as I reached the double doors that led me to where he was I flung myself through them without hesitating. "Edward!" I called – I heard a definite bong of wrongly-pressed keys and a thump as I entered. My momentum saw me through the doors, and I careered across the floor, still calling, "Edward? Edward!"

Edward's head poked out from under the stool, his expression incredulous. "Bella?" he winced, rubbing his head, "What..." he seemed lost for words, "I mean...what?"

"Oh!" I cried, skidding to a halt and falling onto the floor in the process, sliding the remaining few feet before smashing into the wall and crumpling into a ball.

"Bella!" Edward immediately attempted to stand up as I crashed down, in turn smashing his head against the bottom of the stool, falling down again with a harsh cry. My head was spinning as I attempted to regain myself again – Edward was murmuring obscenities under his breath.

"Oh!" I said, attempting to sit up but too disorientated to do so – my ankle was protesting painfully, so instead I stayed still, my fingers over my lips, "Edward, I am sorry...did I surprise you?"

"Hardly," he replied dryly, crawling out from beneath the stool and blinking rapidly for a few seconds before shuffling over to where I lay, sprawled out on the floor, still feeling slightly bewildered. He kneeled beside me, peering into my face, "Are you alright?"

"I think so," I said, shaking my head and attempting to shift myself up the wall – to no effect, I might add. Edward caught me before I hit the floor again and sat me up, arm snaking around my shoulders, holding me still; I took a deep breath, then winced, reaching for my ankle which was definitely screaming abuse at me.

"Your ankle," Edward said, immediately reaching out – I shook my head, grasping his arm.

"I will be fine...I just need a minute."

Edward nodded and we sat still – I felt rather than saw him roll his eyes, "Be honest, Bella," he said, "How in the world can you cause so much _havoc_?"

"I'm sorry," I answered mournfully – he chuckled, squeezing me gently; the slight pressure on my hair told me of how he had just kissed the top of my head. The second time in a number of weeks, and yet it made me shiver. The gesture was so...personal. Nothing like how he usually behaved around me – it was only this, and yet it felt so important. As if it meant something.

Edward had become hard to read in three years.

I glanced up at him and was, absurdly, struck dumb – another thought took me. When had he become so handsome?

He caught my empty expression and lightly brought a finger up to graze my cheek, "Bella? Are you alright?"

I felt my face light up with heat and ducked my head, confused. "Y-yes," I murmured – Edward was silent for a second, then he murmured slightly:

"I'm glad."

I could not help but look at him again – the temptation was too intense. I looked, and suddenly found myself trapped in his eyes, unable to move, unable to speak...unable to think.

"Bella..." his whisper was quiet, his fingers soft and careful at my cheeks – he was so close, and I had no idea what was happening, but I could not control my body. I had the sense something incredibly large and important was about to happen. As if I were standing on the edge of some great precipice, too close to step back, too far away to fall...something was stirring in the waves below me, some new world that I had yet to discover, and if I lunged forward and threw myself in, I would find something amazing.

He was so close...then suddenly, as I was about to close my eyes and wait for the something to happen, I found myself standing on my feet, swaying lightly, no contact from Edward except from his hands on the tops of my arms. I fluttered my eyes open, taking a deep, shaking, tremulous breath, to find him still gazing at me – but his eyes were guarded. They could not hold me anymore.

"Your ankle?" he questioned, nodding slowly at me – I blinked, then drew back, wincing as my ankle protested again; but the pain was bearable.

Staying this close to him? That wasn't.

I bit the tip of my tongue anxiously as I replied, dropping my gaze to the floor, pretending to be testing my sore joint, "It is fine, Edward, thank you. I just need to walk on it."

He muttered something that I could not catch – before I could ask what it was, he interrupted with a question of his own, "So, what was it you wanted of me before you managed to hurt yourself...again?"

My spirits lifted a little – this was territory I knew of; stepping into level ground. I looked up again, my smile returning as I saw that he was smirking slightly, laughing at me. Sighing internally, in relief that the Edward I knew was back and the foreign one with the burning eyes was gone, I replied, "You are coming to Hertfordshire with us."

He did not seem surprised – of course he knew. "I know," he confirmed, smiling still, "Your Father invited me. Was that all you came to say?"

I finally remembered how this had all begun, "New outfit!" I snapped my fingers, "Mama says we must dress you properly."

His only answer: "Oh no."

*

"This will be perfect!" I grinned, swooping down and picking up a long, rough gray coat – it was made of a coarse, slightly heavy material, with soft wool inside; completely perfect for him. I turned, holding it up at arm's length, "It matches your eyes and your hair! Perfect!"

He laughed, "You certainly are excited."

"Well, of course," I scoffed, folding the coat over one arm and leaning my weight to the side, "Not only is it my birthday, but you are coming with us to Uncle's! I do not have to endure that stupid 'celebration' alone! I have my best friend to keep me company." I moved over to him and held the coat up again, "And you, Edward, have this beautiful coat to try on." He rolled his eyes and I giggled, "Please, Edward?"

He sighed, but he was smiling too, "Alright; give it here."

I squeaked in joy and clapped my hands together – I was so excited, I was beginning to act like Alice. That, in itself, was a marvel. Edward shook his head despairingly at me as he swung the coat over his shoulders, settling his arms through the cuffs and rolling them, so the woollen material shifted over his body – I gasped in delight as he gestured to himself, "What do you think?"

"Wonderful," I grinned, motioning for him to twirl – he did so, and I laughed happily, "It is perfect! You, Edward, look positively dashing."

"Do I?" he glanced down at himself, and I nodded.

"You do, Edward," I smiled at him, "You look marvellously handsome. But, then again," I turned away, bending over the clothes chest again, observing absentmindedly, "You are incredibly attractive all of the time anyway."

"You think I'm handsome?" came the strangely stunned response, and I looked round, raising a brow.

"You don't? Edward...I can safely say you are the most good-looking man I have ever met." I smiled at him, and suddenly he moved forward in one large step, taking my hand.

"I think you're beautiful too, Bella," he said softly – I stopped in my tracks, focusing on him again; I could not understand the expression on his face. Burning Edward had returned.

"Thank you," I murmured, feeling suddenly awkward. I could not think of another thing to say, then something stammered its way out. "Of course, you are supposed to say that...it's not necessarily true," I replied, attempting to be light, my uncomfortable smile fading at once as he stepped closer – I could almost feel him enter my circle of personal space, breaching its boundaries in one simple stride; the air around me seemed to tingle. I was completely unable to move, rendered immobile.

This had never happened to me before, and I was more than frightened as he said to me: "It is true." His voice was no more than a whisper – there was an intensity in it that made me shiver slightly, "You are more than beautiful, Bella..."

"Bella!" I had been about to take an involuntary step towards him – I could not explain it, but at that moment, all I had wanted to do was to touch him. I jumped back as Alice stormed through, "We are leaving for Uncle's!" She screeched to a halt, almost colliding with Edward who was now holding her up, looking slightly bemused, "Oh, I'm sorry, Edward." Alice snapped back up and took off again, "Come along, you two, or else we'll be late!"

"Yes," Jasper walked more languidly past in her wake, smiling at us, "We should not be late."

A few more seconds, and we were alone again – I bit the tip of my tongue, then thrust the waistcoat at Edward, attempting to cover my blush. "H-here," I stammered, taking another step away, "I...I must go and fetch...erm..." I turned to make a run for it, spinning on my heel and taking off towards the stairs, my face cherry red – I had no idea what was going on in my head, but I definitely did not want to stay with Edward: that I knew.

"Bella?" Edward called – I turned reluctantly to see him smiling slightly, "Thank you."

I curtsied – actually curtsied – then hurried off again. It was only when I reached my room did I slap myself on the forehead and shriek, "Curtsy?!"

This sixteenth year, albeit it's absurd normality, had at least seen one change.

I had become completely ridiculous.

* * *

**This is un-Betaed...did this completely alone. As of now, I am searching for a new one: anyone out there a super-awesome-speedy-givesmeakickupthearse-Beta? If you are, please PM me! I need one ASAP! **

**Reviews make the world go round :D Just one word would be awesome - it inspires me to keep going. Come on, guys, I need your opinions!**

**I love you guys! You are all my inspiration :D**

**Love, ATO xxxxxx  
**


	6. Misunderstood

**Mbawhahahahh#! I knew I could get this updated within the month...hey guys, hope the wait wasn't too agonizingly long this time!**

**Ok, so just so you guys can remember: It's Bella's 16th birthday, they're going to hertfordshire and...it's dancing time...yeah...wooo.**

**Anyway, this has been about three times through my lovely new Beta, blondie10391, who is the pinnacle of awesomeness and makes me feel very happy whenever I get a message back saying my writing is actually alright :D Thank youuuu!**

**DISCLAIMER - Twilight and the characters are owned by Stephanie Meyer...I did have a really cool dream about Edward last night though :D It had spies and sharks and other cool stuff in it...**

**No, I'm not a loser! Why would you say that?!!**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

* * *

**

Edward was leading me around the dance floor – the waltz again, of course. Just like the rest of the country, I was particularly fond of this dance; in general, most seemed to find the intimacy of the waltz high satisfactory...as did I. Especially when it was Edward I was waltzing with: he was a highly accomplished dancer. His arms were tight and firm around me; his right hand in mine, left hand at my waist, his body just grazing mine, turning great sweeping circles with the rest of the crowd of dancers, leading me through the steps in a way that made it feel effortless, and I was not a good dancer, usually.

That was, needless to say, until I stepped on his foot.

"Ouch!" he hissed under his breath, his crooked smile twisting into a grimace – immediately, I bit my lip, losing my footing a little, clutching at him a little tighter as I nearly fell.

"I am so sorry, Edward!" I apologised profusely, immediately flustered, tripping over my own feet, my concentration lost, "I told you that you should not dance with me, it will only end badly...it always does..."

"Don't be silly," Edward grinned at me, bringing us to a quick stop, steadying me, and gracefully swinging us back in, all in the space of three steps – I did not miss how he was gently shaking his foot out in between steps, "That was only the first time tonight. You're doing well, Bells. There is no need to be nervous: you are usually very good at it."

"Liar," I scoffed, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand.

"I resent that: I never lie."

I raised my brows. "Liar," I smirked again, my smile growing as he laughed properly – I loved how carefree and joyful he seemed, completely comfortable in amongst those who would most dislike him. His green eyes were sparkling, and I found myself caught in them for a second, our gazes locking, something suddenly crackling through the air around us.

"I would never lie to you, Bella," he replied, his voice suddenly serious; I missed a step as my head became fogged and cloudy and I found it, suddenly, difficult to breathe. The moment flashed like bright lightening, strangely warm, and then gone as Edward steadied me, yet again, then swept me in a circle; the cold air crashing past my skin wakened me some, and I felt normal again, able to smile as he carried on, "You always see through me."

"You are far too easy to read," I replied, my tone cautious and too wobbly to be considered mocking; Edward's eyes narrowed a little in what I knew was concern, but he let it pass.

"Maybe," he said pensively, his eyes abruptly flicking to stare at a spot just over my right shoulder – I could tell he was preoccupied with his thoughts – quiet for a second before adding, "You, on the other hand," his gaze was back on me now, "You are far too hard to read."

"Pardon?" I was surprised, "You always say that I am an open book."

"That used to be true," he replied, his voice low, "But...recently I find you exceedingly hard to understand – I can never tell what you are thinking. Something will flash across your face, and...I will not know what it means."

I felt abruptly awkward under his gaze, and I muttered, "It is my head...you cannot see into it..." The intensity of his gaze frightened me a little, and I glanced down at my shoes, afraid of what he would say next – our conversations seemed to become so confusing and serious much more often, nowadays, and I did not like it. The days where I could just laugh with him seemed to be receding into the distance, becoming so rare that they were almost obsolete. I could not tell what was happening to us....but it seemed more him than me.

"Bella?"

His question had me quickly jerking my head up to look at him, "Yes, Edward?"

"Please disregard whatever I am saying," he said, his smile crooked and familiar, "I am an idiot – my thoughts seem to be strewing themselves left and right when they needn't be sown at all. I'm sorry-"

"You are an idiot," I agreed, interrupting him, not wanting him to carry on – ridiculous though it was to say it: he was frightening me. I did not like his seriousness, in his words and in his tone; it unsettled me when what he said held an intensity that I could not understand. As if he were trying to tell me something, something so important that it would change me forever if I knew. At least, that was how it felt...sometimes I thought I was simply being melodramatic. All the same: I was scared. I did not want the seriousness, or the feeling that things were about to change. All I wanted was for everything to stay the same; for Edward and I to be as we always used to be, instead of this awkwardness, both of us trying to pretend it was not there even though it lingered in every moment we spent together, memories and left-over sparks of emotional discord that had me going in endless circles wondering what it all meant.

I was not even sure if my thoughts were making sense anymore.

"You are an idiot," I said again, firmly, "So be quiet and just lead me. Please."

Edward chuckled a little, and the moment was broken. "Ah, Bella," he murmured – I thought I felt him close the distance between us, and the nervous thumping of my fatigued heart as his hand slipped to rest against the small of my back, the thin material of my dress not enough to protect me from the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, "You are funny."

No more words were said. For the first few turns afterwards I focused on staring at the buttons of his waistcoat – they glinted and flashed a perfect shade of emerald that could not help but remind me of his eyes – but then some kind of peace took me. It filled me up and stilled my nerves, my heart, the twist in my lower abdomen that hurt with every move, and after that I simply...danced. There in Edward's arms, so comfortable I could have fallen to sleep. I suspected that I had for a minute or two when I woke up amidst voracious applause, cheers, and Edward's warmth. My head was resting on his chest, and he was chuckling, a strange kind of fondness in his gaze that made me feel as if he could see everything in me – and that he liked what he saw.

*

"Will you dance with me again tonight, Bella? I suspect you may still be tired," Edward murmured to m, holding my hand in the crook of his elbow – I raised a brow to his smirk.

"When do you not force me?"

He chuckled and squeezed my hand – he was 'parading' me around the set of rooms in which my Uncle had thrown my ball, which really meant I was using him as my weapon against anyone who wished to speak to me. To anyone else, we would look like a courting couple – ergo, no one would be interrupting. That was our theory, anyway.

Of course, some cannot be stopped.

"Is that a promise?" Edward murmured to me – I was about to reply, but then came the interruption.

"Excuse me?" An exquisitely beautiful, blonde haired woman, tall and spindly thin, appeared, a smile on her face which was directed straight at Edward, "Could I invite you to dance, Sir?"

Edward seemed a little dumbfounded as he turned to look at her, then back at me, then at her again, "Erm...," he started, "I..."

"Edward, it is fine." I smiled at him, "I will survive by myself. Go and dance."

"Bella..." There was a strange look in his eyes I did not understand. I was sure he would want to go and dance with this beautiful woman instead of staying with me. I was not sure why I felt so loathe for her to dance with him, but I knew Edward would want to. He must be feeling guilty, I told myself.

"Go, Edward." I forced a wider smile, "Go and enjoy yourself."

The girl wrapped a hand around his arm, and he was gone before he could say another word.

I was left, in the middle of the crowd of people I did not know – and almost immediately I began to feel boxed in. There was no way out or in, especially when most were taller than me; twenty lonely minutes later I was pressed against the wall, trying to regulate my breathing, feeling closed in amongst the sea of people packed into the small set of rooms. I closed my eyes against the building panic – I had no idea where my father, sister or mother were. The echoing laughs, the continual clacking of high-heeled shoes against the marble floor, the chink and grind of crystal glasses and the increasing volume of talk was suddenly invading my mind, making my heart beat frantically faster – I wanted to scream out for someone to come and help me.

I didn't want just anyone. I wanted Edward.

I had to squeeze my eyelids together tight, curling my fingers into fists, my nails pinching at my palms, trying to stop myself from bursting into tears. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than for my best friend to suddenly burst through the door and save me.

He had never failed in saving me before.

But he was not here – he was hidden in the crowd, amongst all the young ladies, so much older and more beautiful than I; better company and conversation than I. He was having a wonderful time with them...he had no time for me. I had not seen him since the blonde girl had taken him away. Why would he? He had no idea that I needed him so badly. I choked back a sob, unable to open my eyes, the panic still building, even at my attempts to calm myself. I shook my head, trying to press myself further into the wall; I should have known I could not survive this alone.

"Excuse me?" a low, masculine voice asked from beside my right ear; I jumped, my eyes snapping open in surprise. There was a young, tanned boy, who looked about my age, standing next to me, his expression absurdly worried, "Are you alright?"

I nodded quickly, not wanting to speak for fear I would simply scream, and attempted to move away so I could be alone again. Apparently, the boy was having none of it. He grabbed my hand, holding me still, shaking it gently, "My name is Jacob. Jacob Black."

Unwillingly, I murmured, attempting to be surreptitious as I turned to the side a little, pulling my arm from his grip, "Isabella Swan."

"Oh," his smile twisted into one of recognition, and he stepped round to stand in front of me, blocking my path, "You are his grace's daughter?" He reminded me somewhat of a dog, with his large, friendly brown eyes and easy smile; I felt comfortable in his presence.

I shook my head, the air suddenly becoming a little easier to breathe as his easy smile grew – it was strangely soothing, and conversation began to come easier, "No, I'm his niece. My father is his brother, Charles Swan."

"Oh," he said again, "A pleasure to meet you, Isabella Swan. Happy Birthday, might I say."

I smiled timidly, my good humour recovering by the second, "A pleasure to meet you too, Mr Black, and thank you for your good wishes."

"Call me Jacob." His grin, so wide and bright, reminded me of the sun, and I could not help but smile properly back.

"Call me Bella."

I let him offer me his arm, taking it when he did, and after a few minutes of conversation, I felt completely free and easy in Jacob's presence. Within an hour, we had become great friends.

"You tripped?" he laughed, shaking his head in mirth, his long hair swinging in its low band, "You managed to stumble on a twig?!"

"Stop laughing!" I elbowed him, even though that only served to bruise me, laughing with him despite myself, "I am incredibly clumsy – I cannot help it!"

At that moment we were sitting at the base of the main stairs, my dress crumpled under my arms as I hugged my knees, observing everyone else whilst swapping stories with Jacob. I had learned that he had a father and two sisters – Rachel and Rebecca – and that he had a great love of horses. He was carefree and loud, bright and shining; he made me laugh, and I found I liked him immensely. So much so I could not complain when he asked me to dance.

As soon as we were on the floor, I found myself searching for Edward in the crowd – somehow I could not get the thought of that blonde hussy out of my mind. There was no point asking myself why I should call her a hussy: I simply knew that she was. She had to be. She had had that look about her. I could not see him, and I felt a faint flicker of something as I imagined whether they had gone out into the garden. Alone.

The word reverberated like a gong around my mind, and I had to force down the urge to stand on my toes for one final search, dragging my gaze back to Jacob as he commented, "You are quite the dancer, Miss Swan."

"Oh," I was distracted, and had not completely comprehended his words, "Excuse me, Jacob – what was that?"

"You are a good dancer," he smiled; I laughed a little.

"If you asked Edward you would not think so," I said, immediately realising my mistake as Jacob's brows knitted together; I was not supposed to tell people about him. It was a rule I had imposed upon myself more than anything else – I did not want anyone finding out how close we were, lest we should be the object of unwanted scrutiny. It could be complete scandal, what society dug up these days, and I did not want myself, nor Edward, for that matter, caught up in the middle. My head immediately began to argue – what harm could come from telling Jacob, my new friend, who I knew was a good man, about Edward? He would surely understand our relationship, and it could continue on as it had before. Besides, I liked Jacob, I knew. I liked him more than average, and I did not want to keep secrets from him. Who knew? It could be important for him to understand Edward and me now, so that we could go on without misunderstanding or misinterpretation.

The one thing that made me uneasy was that small voice in the back of my mind – I knew she spoke for deeper feelings inside of me - and she was screaming: don't do it. Don't tell – do not relate your secret, for you have no knowledge of who will hear. Do not, do not, do not...

"Miss Swan?" Jacob would not call me Bella.

"Yes?"

"I asked who this Edward might be?"

Jacob's expression was relaxed, merely interested for the sake of a passing name, and I could not help but let it slip out, "A childhood friend of mine."

"Oh." Jacob looked away then, obviously holding no more thought to the matter, and I sighed a silent sigh of relief – but somehow I felt uneasy, one half of my senses still listening out for Edward. I could not focus on Jacob completely, because Edward would not leave my mind. I wanted to know where he was: I was worried for him. About him. Where was he, what had happened to him, what was he doing, Edward, Edward, Edward...this was nothing less than unreasonable. My mind would not be quiet, and as the music ended, I only just managed to gather up my wits to focus on the last twist, the last step, the last curtsey before I was due to engage with Jacob again.

I smiled at him, promising him a second dance before the night was out as he kissed my hand, then turned as he melted back into the crowd, feeling pleased. This night had turned out much better than I had first anticipated – Jacob was a wonderful man. I couldn't help but feel a wriggle of pleasure as I thought of dancing with him again. My mother would be pleased, as would Papa; I knew as well as any girl did of my age that finding a suitable match was essential...before you became too old or too wizened to be attractive. The atmosphere and mood of these balls, I was beginning to think, reminded me somewhat of a dog fight: a pack of wild dogs chasing and fighting for possession of a meagre amount of bones. And it was just so: the amount of men was highly outclassed by the number of women, and so it became a competition. The more cunning or beautiful you were, the higher your chances. If you were rich, well: that would help enormously. If you were unfortunate in your fortunes and in your looks? You had no chance.

Of course, finding love in these smallest of terms was practically impossible, and yet it was all I dreamed of. I could not imagine marrying someone whom I did not love, much as I knew there was little chance I could. Jacob had lit a small flame in me – one of hope.

I caught sight of Edward, standing alone against the wall, and smiled slightly and satisfactorily, noting the absence of the blonde. His eyes were already on me, and they caught mine as soon as I looked at him. They were narrowed slightly, and his mouth was pinched together – he looked a little like he was in some form of pain. I made my way over to him, all the while locked in his gaze; something about it was making me a little frightened.

Was he...angry?

"Hello, Edward," I smiled as I reached him, turning and resting against the wall as he was; he didn't acknowledge me, apart from a slight nod. "Edward?"

When he didn't answer me again, simply continued to look at me – he was dead silent, and I felt uncomfortable under his gaze. Had something happened?

"Edward?" I asked, "What is the matter?"

He didn't answer, simply turned and walked away. I was left, standing there, completely bewildered as I watched his retreating form melt into the shadows of the crowd until he was obscured from view. Alice appeared beside me just as fluidly, "What is wrong with Edward?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"I don't know."

"Did you say something to him?"

I turned to look at her, biting the tip of my tongue, feeling my eyebrows crease inwards, "I...I don't..."

"Bella?"

Again with the appearing, Jacob stepped in next to me – I saw Alice's face harden as he took my elbow, smiling down at me, "I came to ask whether you would care for another dance with me...are you busy?"

I shook my head, trying to clear my sudden confusion and anguish, "Oh..." I stuttered,

"No...no, I am not busy. Alice?"

"Go ahead." Her voice was like ice, and my eyes widened as she too turned away and left as abruptly as she had come. Jacob glanced down at me with a frown.

"Is she alright?"

As I looked at him and attempted a bright smile, nodding in what I hoped was a carefree way, I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach, which was like a heavy weight, burning through my insides as I watched two of the people I loved most in the world walk away from me.

Something was positively, and absolutely, most definitely and inescapably: very very wrong.

* * *

**Reviews make the world go round :D**

**Love, ATO xxxx**

**Oh, and I have a question for you guys, I just want to know. 1 - Are you a Team Jacob or a Team Edward? 2 - After seeing the New Moon trailer, or reading stuff in the papers or watching Taylor/Robert...are you worried or do you think Team Jacobonians are going to take us Team Edwardians over? Do you think the New Moon movie only encourages people to switch sides? Have you switched sides? This is something I am seriouslllyyy worried about (freak that I am) and I was wondering what you all thought?  
**

**No, I am not an obsessed loser!  
**

**Ahhhh!!!!  
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**Leave a review with your view! haha...see what I did there?**

**:D  
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	7. Divisions

**Hey, everybody!**

**Sorry this took a while...only two weeks-ish, which I'm sort of proud of :D usually it takes me years...slowly, day by day as the story commences - and gets more interesting- chapters will be more frequent (nb - this is only wishful thinking ;) )**

**Anyhoo, thank you to all who reviewed so far, I love you all, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER - I own nothing etc etc etc :D**

**Previously: **

_"Go ahead." Her voice was like ice, and my eyes widened as she too turned away and left as abruptly as she had come. Jacob glanced down at me with a frown._

_"Is she alright?"_

_As I looked at him and attempted a bright smile, nodding in what I hoped was a carefree way, I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach, which was like a heavy weight, burning through my insides as I watched two of the people I loved most in the world walk away from me._

_Something was positively, and absolutely, most definitely and inescapably: very very wrong.

* * *

_

That night, after a minute or so of tense silence, I sighed, turning to stare at Alice's profile in the bed we were sharing. "Alice?" I started; she did not reply, simply moved so her back was to me, and I sighed again, deeper this time. "Alice, please, tell me what is wrong. Are you angry with me? Did I say or do something to upset you? Alice, please?"

There was no answer.

"Alice?" I tried again, "Alice! Alice!" I reached out to shake her shoulder, my fingers grasping her cotton skin, "Please-" My words were cut off as she suddenly lashed out, throwing my hand away with such force that I moved backwards, and suddenly found there was no mattress beneath me; I tumbled out of the bed and onto the floor, landing with a harsh thump, pain immediately slicing down my right arm as it broke my fall. "Ouch!" I hissed, trying to bite back my cries – this was not my house, and it was late, "My arm!"

"Bella!" Alice was suddenly there beside me, her eyes wide, "Oh, Bella, I am so sorry!" She was kneeling amongst the blankets which were strewn haphazardly across the floor, having fallen with me, "Are you hurt?"

Red-hot anger spiked in me, burning in my throat as I glanced up at her – for a moment I considered using this as a reason to shout at her, to take out my frustrations at both her and Edward, and their opacity: for making me feel as if I had done something wrong when I knew I had not...but in a second it passed. That voice at the back of my mind gently chided me, telling me it would simply be spiteful – I knew that already. Besides: I would not sink to her level. "I am fine," I said finally, my voice shaking a little from the shock, glancing down at my arm and probing it gently; it did not seem to hurt anymore. "Truthfully," I added, as Alice widened her eyes even further at me, obviously disbelieving, "I am fine, Alice."

"But surely we should tell Papa-"

"We should not interrupt his rest, Alice," I chided – Papa had not been well recently.

My little sister sighed, sitting back on her heels and twisting her lips to the side, averting her gaze, her fingers knotted in her lap – I knew that expression. I had shared a room with Alice until I was twelve years old, when Papa had decided he did not need a room simply for sitting and gazing across the rolling hills in; of course, I spent most of my time at my window, sitting on the soft window-cushion that jutted out from the wall, the curtains closed, staring out across the grounds when a book became too vivid for my mind to handle, and it began to ache. But that was beside the point.

Alice was silent as I stood, throwing the bedclothes back over the mattress and climbing back in, all the time holding my arm which was protesting – but there had been worse. I was sure my limb would be back to normal in the morning, and if it was not, my Uncle Marcus was in a good position to find someone to help me. I sincerely hoped not: I hated physicians. I pulled the blankets over me, settling down, then glanced back at Alice, who was still kneeling on the floor. "Alice, come on. Back into bed."

She obliged, quietly raising herself off the floor and padding to her side; I watched her face, squinting into the darkness as she slowly, almost gingerly, slid under the bedclothes beside me and lay still, face upwards – she would not look at me. I turned onto my side, pulling the blankets up to my chin and resting my head on my hands, hardly able to see her. "Alice?" I asked, my voice slightly muffled, "Alice, please?"

She finally looked at me, finally turned onto her side to face me, the expression on her face almost...sad. Her small lips were turned down at the corners, her dark hair blending with the deep red curtains, and we stared at each other for such a long moment that she began to blur, until she resembled more a pair of wide eyes set in pearl than my little sister. I was bewildered, to say the least.

"Sorry, Bella," she said finally, her lips barely moving, "I..."

"Why are you disappointed with me, Alice?" I asked, determined to understand, to know what I had done, "Why are you angry? What have I done?"

"Nothing," she said hurriedly, sighing deeply and rubbing her small fingers across her face, fingertips pulling at her skin, the impassive mask tearing off to reveal what she had hidden from me – I knew my sister well, but it was not the guilt I saw on her face that struck me...it was the sorrow. Something was making her sad.

"Alice?" I asked, squinting into the darkness to try to see her pale face clearer, sure I could not be seeing her right, "What-"

"It is nothing, Bella," she said again, cutting me off, "Nothing, I promise you...Jasper and I fought, and I am angry about it. That is all."

I was surprised, and I moved closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as was the way when sharing secrets in the middle of the night, "You and Jasper? Fought? You did not seem to be fighting when I saw you earlier, Alice."

"I know," she said, moving towards me too; my spirits began to lighten as we launched into our typical late-night scandal sessions – which, in their entirety, were not so scandalous; not enough happened to either of us, but we still enjoyed going over the latest news from the towns, or from various visitors, or simply discussing our days with either Edward or Jasper, who were both our best friends, respectively, apart from each other – my heart loosening with relief as the tension between us began to lift, even though I did not know why it was there in the first place. She carried on carefully "It happened...at the end of the gathering...he was with another girl..."

My eyes widened, but I did not speak – I now knew exactly why Alice was angry with Jasper. Even I could not ignore the attraction between them: I knew both of them too well, and it was easy to watch as they both grew up together, my little sister and her best friend. I had witnessed the loaded glances between them, seen him take her hand and seen her blush, and it made my heart heavy, because I knew. I knew how different they were, less so than Edward and myself, but the point still stood...if something developed between them, they would have to run. Run as fast and as furiously as they could, because if they did not: they would not survive. Selfishly, I was glad it was not like that between Edward and I – we were, and would always be, friends. No complications, and I would find a man I loved and my parents approved of, and I would marry him...somehow, though, I could not imagine Edward with a wife. Or with any woman at all, in fact, besides myself.

Alice interrupted my musings, "He was with another girl."

"What did she look like, Alice?" I asked, sidetracked, wanting to know who she was; Alice shrugged.

"Dark skinned, long, dark hair...she smiled a lot..."

"She could have been Jacob's sister," I reasoned; Alice stiffened, her gaze suddenly darkening.

"Jacob." It did not sound like a question, but, in an attempt to lead her away, I treated it as if it were, feigning innocence as she stared at me, almost accusingly.

"The man I was with?" I started carefully, "Jacob Black? He has two sisters, called Rach-"

She seemed to have forgotten her scruples with Jasper and the girl who may or may not have been Jacob's sister – in fact, she was much more interested in Jacob. She immediately launched into an endless monotony of questions; she questioned me relentlessly on him, on his character, his family, until my suspicions were well and truly raised. If I had been an animal, my haunches would be raised, my teeth bared...so to speak. I knew something was not right when she asked, "Does Edward know about him?"

"Edward?" I breathed, my blood suddenly running cold, an iciness beginning to drift through my chest, my stomach suddenly heavy – was it guilt? Did I feel...bad? No, that was impossible; Edward was my friend, and there was no need to feel bad that I had made another, and was considering that he could maybe be more. I cleared my throat, attempting to quash the creeping, icy tendrils as I shook my head, "I do not suppose that he does...a blonde," I had to stop myself from calling her a hussy – that was only suitable for in my own head, and Alice would be sure to think I was jealous, that I hated her, which was completely the wrong impression. I just did not like her because she was obviously not the right type for Edward. "...girl," I almost choked on the word, "asked him for a dance," stole him, more accurately, "and I did not see him for the rest of the night."

"That is strange," Alice murmured, glancing away from me, towards the window, where the stars were beginning to drift away as the dark, shapeless clouds folded across them, darkening the sky to black, dimming the moonlight – conversation was becoming nearly impossible due to the lack of light, but Alice still continued, "Edward and another girl...he would not-"

"Would not what?" I asked sharply; Alice looked back at me quickly.

"Nothing. It just does not seem like him, to leave you alone as he did."

"He is over the age of a child, Alice," I said, somewhat sourly, my brows knitting together of their own accord, "He is eighteen...he may do what he wants with women. He does not need to stay with me, and I'm sure he would rather not."

"I do not think so," Alice murmured in reply, "Edward would much rather be with you than any other girl."

"How would you know?" I asked, sensing again that there was something she was not telling me, and Alice bit her lip before repeating again, aggravatingly:

"No reason."

Conversation did not continue after that – my mind was sore and confused, a mix of worry for Edward, annoyance at Alice for her opacity and her continual skirting question which left my mind in a muddle, and wonderings as to why I could not dredge up much excitement for seeing Jacob in the morning – he was going to join us for breakfast, along with his family and my own. All I could think of was Edward, and Alice surreptitious comments that left me considering that there was something going on between them that I did not know about, and that I should know about, because I was sure it included me.

I stared out at the dark sky, all the points of light extinguished by the thick, dense, foggy clouds that choked the night, a strange sort of anguish tightening my chest – it was for Edward, and I hated that. I did not know where he was, or what he was doing: he had disappeared when he walked away from me, and I gave up looking for him after a few minutes dancing with Jacob – I could not tell him what was wrong when he asked, because I did not know myself. I could not even feel angry anymore; I was so tired. Confusion reigned inside my head, and I could not even understand myself.

In the end, I fell into a restless slumber, and hoped desperately things would be better in the morning.

*

Breakfast the next morning was a relatively sunny affair – Jacob was sitting across for me, his smile brightening my own, even though Edward and his family's continued absence caused a continual ache in my breast as I glanced to my right to see if Edward was laughing with me, as he usually was...but not then. As the days went past, he still was not there, and neither was Elizabeth or Edward Senior. I could not think who to ask about their whereabouts – not my parents, for fear of being rude, nor Alice, for fear she would question why I was so concerned, a fact which I did not know myself and did not wish to find out the reason why. Jacob certainly would not know, and I did not want him getting involved, so instead I concentrated on him, and let him talk to me across the hours, quietly absorbing all he said whilst trying to ignore that Alice was quite deliberately glaring at him when she thought neither of us were looking, and quite deliberately ignoring him when he attempted to talk to her, instead turning to Jasper. They both looked completely at ease with each other, no hint of continued struggle between them, and I began to wonder whether they had really argued at all. From the way they smiled and laughed together, easily as usual, I could not believe so. I would lie in bed at night, and Alice would talk to me, but I could not get her to speak about Edward, and nor would I embarrass myself by trying – instead, I would turn onto my side and worry endlessly about him.

I missed him too. Could not think where he would go, or how he could not be missing me as I was him. I supposed he must not be, and even though it made me sad, in the morning I would wipe away any tears that happened to have fallen in my sleep and go and meet Jacob for a game of cricket. He was so surprised that I could hit as well as I could, and our team always won, even against my Father and Uncle; my Father did not run, as his lungs did not allow for it, so Alice did it for him, always flashing past me with a small smile that paled in comparison to her usual wide grin, which she reserved for Jasper only – no, she had not been fighting with him at all.

Even as I questioned why Alice should lie to me, I attempted to focus my mind on other things – on Jacob, and his smile, and his interesting conversation that never failed to make me laugh, never failed to interest me. Over toast one day he told me of Scotland: of the heathen, wild country up north where the wind blew all day, frosting the trees and lakes over in a way you would never see here unless it were the dead of winter. Of the mile-wide lochs, where supposedly mythical monsters lurked in the deep, waiting for unwitting fisherman, searching for fish to catch but never would. Over tea and eggs a few days later he described to me his journey to India with his father, a place I had always longed to go when I was a child – the restless travelling fascination I had when I was younger had dulled a little, and I had begun to find the idea of simply staying in England, where everything was familiar and kind and _green _a little more agreeable than I had used to.

But still I listened, gorging over his descriptions of gorgeous, lush multicoloured forests, wild, strong, predators who lived in the wild and stalked through the bush on hushed paws, silent as the grave, but could run with such power and speed they could catch a gazelle at twenty paces without effort, yet their lope could be so graceful, their fur so soft and their faces so beautiful you would hardly think that they could be so terrifyingly merciless. I was amazed at what Jacob had seen, inspired by his grand hand gestures and passionate speech, and he laughed as I made him describe it all to me again, until we were so far back from the eventual walking party on Sunday that we decided to stop, in a structure made of stone that crossed the river a mile or so from the house.

We leaned across the parapet, propping our elbows up on the cold gray stone and leaning down to observe the quick-flowing, wide river – Jacob collected sticks and gave one to me, and we threw them in, quickly darting to the other side to see whose stick crossed over first. He laughed as I argued how mine had won, telling me I was a girl, therefore he had won, and I must accept it or he would throw me in. We threw stones, and even though his always managed to go farther, and make a bigger splash, throwing water across each bank with a boom that was impossibly loud, I never stopped attempting to throw mine further than his, nor did I ever stop insisting that I could.

"Bella," Jacob rolled his eyes, coming up behind me, his fingers curling around my arm, "You will never be able to throw far if you have such a weak stance – stand with your legs apart, shoulders back, and pull back your arm as far as it will go."

He did it for me, and I laughed as my limb pulled back only an inch, "I am not so sure my arm wishes to do that..."

"You are a girl," Jacob smirked again, "I do not expect you to be any good at this."

"Hey!" I pushed my elbow back as I did when Edward would wrap his arms around my waist and push his head onto my shoulder, tickling my sides with the tips of his fingers to pull the frown from my face when I was in an especially bad mood, catching him in the stomach – Edward knew to dodge it and Jacob wouldn't, but to my surprise I found his abdomen was more rock than flesh. I bruised my own elbow instead of him, and he hardly noticed.

"Come on, Bella," he coaxed, his hand going up to close around mine, holding the rock in both of our fingers, "Pull your arm back and..." using more his own strength than my own, we threw it, and it flew farther than either of ours had, hitting the surface of the river well over where it curved out of sight – all I heard was a low splash, and Jacob's delighted crow, "Excellent!"

I turned to grin at him, "I told you I could throw farther."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked in mock horror – he still had my hand, "That, my dear Isabella, was me helping you: you could not have done that alone."

"And yet I did."

"Oh?" he grinned, holding up our entwined hands, "Then what is this doing here?" I could not answer that, and soon silence stretched between us; I turned my head to gaze out over the river, feeling awkward but sort of liking the feeling of his warm hand on mine...but there was a ghost hovering over me, a slight tingling that reminded me of another, cooler skin that always seemed to burn when it came into contact with mine. Another pair of eyes...I shook my head, determined to rid him from my mind, and looked back to Jacob, and his dark brown eyes: they were heavy and deep, swirling almost black, drawing me in. Jacob smiled at me, and I was about to smile back, when a snap of a twig suddenly claimed my attention.

That other pair of eyes was watching me from across the heath.

"Bella," Jacob murmured quietly, his eyes following mine – I was already distracted, gazing towards Edward, my mind swerving onto a completely different track. I watched him, my heart stirring, my stomach twisting, unable to look away as he began to walk very deliberately towards us. He was wearing his grey coat, and a slight smile, and almost involuntarily, I took a step towards him, wanting to run towards him. Jacob's hold on my hand loosened as I moved away: he seemed to have sensed that he had lost me. Concern, anger, sadness; numerous different feelings for Edward filled me, rendering any for Jacob obsolete, even as I glanced at him, trying to struggle back to him...but it was useless. Edward had taken my attention: I wanted to go and shout to him, wanted to hit and scream at him for disappearing on me...irritatingly, I just wanted to talk to Edward, because I had missed him. I had missed him terribly. I wanted to run and hug him, to embrace my childhood friend who meant so much to me.

It began to rain, first in light dribbles, soon and very quickly becoming heavier, sweeping across the land in sheets; Jacob kissed my hand, his dark eyes lidded, holding mine, and I looked into them and found they could not hold me as they had before. "I will go," he murmured, and I knew I should have cared, knew I should feel sad...but I did not.

I bit my lip, looking down to my feet even as Jacob walked away and Edward walked towards me, as Jacob retreated and Edward advanced, his face unfathomable. I stood there, still, underneath the gray stone that was dripping, water running over the pillars in sheets, hitting and soaking the ground. The earth was dense and green; it seemed to be bloating and swelling with moisture even as it greedily drank more. I looked up and the sky was lolling, draping itself even closer against the landscape, pressing against Edward's form, soaking his hair and coat until they were nearly brown and black. I froze as Edward's eyes caught mine, something that was definitely not anger coursing through me; I told myself it was the rain, the cold, that was making me shiver. That was making me want to run and throw my arms around him...only for the warmth, I told myself. Only because I had missed him.

Edward stepped over the threshold, climbed the steps, his boots sounding ridiculously loud against the stone – somehow, he seemed like a stranger to me...at least, it felt that way; not for the first time, I could not read the expression on his drawn face - but to my complete surprise and shock, he moved forward, walking straight to where I was standing, frozen...and hugged me. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, pulling me against him, and pressed his face into my hair.

"Edward?" I breathed, from my place against his chest, fingers meeting across his back; I twisted them together, biting my lip worriedly but not moving, not pulling away. I could not feel anger towards him when he acted this way – it was too confusing but still too touching. Even though I did not understand where he had been, how he was feeling, or why his arms were tight around me, holding me so close I could almost hear his heart beating, slow and true, I couldn't not return his embrace. I could not help but breathe him in, his smell, which was familiar and warm and comfortable.

I wondered if that was the reason. He just could not help but be my best friend; could not help be one of the people who meant the most to me, just as I could not help forgive his behaviour towards me. In the end, there was no point in it. I would always forgive him.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, Bella."

"I missed you, Edward," I murmured, unable to stop the truth spilling out; somehow I knew there was no point in asking him where he had gone, because he would not tell me. At least, it would not be the truth. But I could not care much less than I did, as Edward hugged me tightly, and the rain fell, filling their air with its heady scent – I did not care, because my best friend was back.

And, in the end, that was all that would ever matter.

* * *

**I do acutally like this chapter quite a lot :D**

**And NEW MOOON IN 14 DAYS! OH MY GAWD you have NO idea how excited I am :D **

**So, review question of the day: New Moon? :D**

**Love, Helena :D**

**p.s. don't forget to review :D xxx  
**


	8. Middle Ground

**Hello, there, my lovely readers! **

**I know it's been years...possibly months...yes, yes, I know I'm a terrible updater, and I am SOO SORRY! Exams, revision, mocks, school...bleurghhhh. It all catches up wit h you and before you know it you haven't updated in a month and your fanfiction is getting terribly dusty. Sigh. **

**Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter...hopefully I'll be better at updating from now on, but I can't really guarantee anything :( **

**Disclaimer - I own nothing, as usual, but the coup is still in progress...**

**Read on, my brave warriors!  
**

**Previously:  
**

_"I missed you, Edward," I murmured, unable to stop the truth spilling out; somehow I knew there was no point in asking him where he had gone, because he would not tell me. At least, it would not be the truth. But I could not care much less than I did, as Edward hugged me tightly, and the rain fell, filling their air with its heady scent – I did not care, because my best friend was back._

_And, in the end, that was all that would ever matter.

* * *

_

I could not have anticipated the torture that breakfast would turn out to be the next morning.

And, you must believe me: it was nothing less than horrible.

I woke up, as usual, with the sun in my eyes and warmth on my face – it had only just stopped raining since the afternoon of the day before, and I could almost taste its lingering presence in the air, smell the misty damp which hung around the house despite the bright sunshine. It was the kind of weather I enjoyed, except for in the heat of summer when the wind would sometimes blow all day and night, trees ripped off their roots and leaves from their branches. At night then I would listen to it howling around the house, whipping and twisting past the hidden corners and balustrades that served as their wind instruments – sound holes, I had named them, quite appropriately one particularly orchestral evening.

Alice yawned and stretched as I flung myself out of bed, landing in my slippers and hurrying to the window seat. "Bella," she moaned good-naturedly as I flung the glass pane open, leaning out and letting the full summer sunshine play across my skin, smiling and closing my eyes at its touch, "Can you not even leave the curtains closed for five minutes before blinding me?"

Her grievances were pretend – she had been in a considerably better mood with me since Edward's return, the reason for which mystified me. The day before, when Edward had appeared as if from nowhere, he had completely obliterated any wishes I may have had that evening to spend time with Jacob, which also bewildered me: I definitely liked Jacob, perhaps enough to spend all my time with him, yet as soon as Edward was back, especially since he had gone at all, I wanted was to be with him.

If I had thought we were growing apart, I was nothing less than a fool.

We had sat and talked for what must have been hours, until the sun was low in the sky but the rain was torrential and growing ever heavier by the minute. He had thrown me out into the weather, laughing in his way as I retained my hold in his hand, dragging him out with me to be soaked. Of course my mother was furious with the both of us as she caught us sneaking in through one of the many back doors, wet through – but she, like everyone else, was glad to see Edward back, and after ordering me to get straight up to dinner, she inquired after Elizabeth and had Edward lead her straight to him. Secretly, I knew that she knew that I knew that she was deliberately separating Edward from me, because as soon as I ascended the staircase, my Uncle, my Aunt, cousins and various other extended family members descended on me, somewhat reminding me of cawing vultures, inquiring as to where I had been, why I was so wet, and whether I was feeling completely alright since I may have caught a life-threatening case of pneumonia.

When I finally escaped them and slipped into my bedroom, where I stayed for the rest of the night, and decided that for the rest of my life I was going to avoid the rest of the Swan family as much as possible. To be honest, my mother, father and sister were definitely more than enough for me.

It did not bother me so much anymore, how transparent Mama was about keeping Edward and I apart when disapproving company were about – much as I attempted to push the knowledge away, much as I attempted to ignore it and insist it didn't matter: Edward and I were worlds away from each other. Much as we wished we were not, the matter still stood, plain and clear as day. We were not doomed – no, I did not think that melodramatically – but there was something to be said for being careful.

Of course, I tended to forget that whenever Edward was around, simply because of the joy his company brought me. It, as it always had, made me forget anything that could be wrong with the world. Together, as we had always been, we were simply Edward and Bella. The feeling was not so different from when Jacob and I were together, but it was not the same, in ways I had not quite figured out yet.

But, that day an easily fitting example: if anyone knew it was a gardener's son I had been soaking myself in the rain with, it would not be looked upon well. And I had begun to accept that fact, because it was easier than pretending it was not true. Besides, this way I could focus my energy on finding ways around it.

Breakfast was a small affair that morning, attended by the extended Swan family, the Blacks who were not due to return to their home for at least two weeks, and the Masens – dressed up to the tee, much unlike them; my mother's handiwork, I assumed, and I giggled as Edward pulled a face at me that suggested he was choking on his collar.

Sighing, I sat back, content. Edward leaned over – I caught Jacob's frown in my peripheral vision as I turned away from him, but it did not concern me too much – and murmured in my ear, "Which spoon should I use first?" I caught his gaze, directed towards the thick lines of metal spoons, forks and knives that extended on either side of his china plate, arranged in order of size and importance. Edward looked sincerely confused as he raised his brows at me, but I was not surprised. It had taken me longer than it should have to master etiquette - in all honesty, I could still not tell the difference between a fish and butter knife.

I laughed, gesturing towards the smallest piece of silver cutlery, "It is not hard – work from the outside in. That is what Mama always taught me."

"Ah," Edward picked up the tiny spoon and grinned at me, his smile and eyes shining, before tapping me lightly on the nose with the cold metal, "I understand."

"Stop it!" I could not put much force in my tone; I was laughing too much, "Behave, Edward!"

Another voice sounded in my ear as I giggled, "Bella?"

I whipped my head round in surprise – my neck cracked worryingly, and I winced internally as I faced Jacob again. "Yes?" I smiled at him too, rubbing my skin surreptitiously by attempting to make it look sheepish, in a way I had learned from Edward, "I am sorry, Jacob, Edward was asking about...erm..." I could not say he did not know how to use the cutlery, and I was in the middle of concocting a feasible explanation when Jacob leaned across me, holding out a hand to Edward who looked slightly surprised, his dark brows raising slightly in a way I knew meant that he was.

"Jacob Black, good to meet you. You must be Edward?"

Edward seemed slightly apprehensive, his hand hovering hesitantly in the air above his plate, the spoon rolling around slightly on the table where he had just dropped it, having been fidgeting with it beforehand. He glanced at me, his gaze both reserved and accusing – he wanted to know what I had said about him to Jacob. How Jacob knew his name. I could not answer him, so instead I kicked him, mouthing for him to be polite. It took him a second before he held his hand out, smiling perhaps less enthusiastically as Jacob was. "Masen," he said, in a voice which was definitely different from how he spoke to me, "Edward Masen." He neglected to say anything else as they shook hands firmly, and Jacob was silent too. They stared blankly at each other, and I glanced back and forth between them, biting the tip of my tongue and wondering what exactly what was going on. It seemed as though they were sizing each other up – certainly, Edward's green gaze was narrowed, their fingers still grasped together even though they were not shaking hands any longer. Arms and fingers tight, they sat, locked in silence, whilst I sat in between them and waited for something to happen.

Eventually Alice broke the silence. "What on earth are you doing?" she asked sharply, turning away from her conversation with our youngest cousin across the other side of the table, her eyes honing in on their crossed hands, hanging precariously an inch or so away from my abdomen, "Are you...holding hands?"

"No," Edward replied, quickly releasing his grip and pulling his limb back, holding it in such a way it looked as if he were slightly disgusted by it – Jacob simply laughed, as always, taking it all in jest.

"That is what you would call a manly greeting, Miss Alice," he grinned at her, his face open and friendly; in direct contrast, Alice's mouth was turned down at the corners, her normally happy and cheerful gaze dark and narrowed. She looked nothing less than hostile, and her voice was cold as she answered:

"That's Miss Swan to you."

Jacob raised his brows and sat back, his smile fading as he glanced at me, looking slightly hurt – I bit my lip but only shrugged at him, at a loss for anything to tell him. How could I explain my sister's hostility when I did not understand it myself? I could only narrow my eyes at her in an attempt to express my confusion, but she had already turned away. Edward chuckled from beside me, and I glanced towards him, forgetting Jacob yet again. "What is funny?" I asked curiously, tilting my head a little at him; he grinned, his eyes sparkling as he returned my gaze.

"Nothing."

"You find her comment funny, Masen?"

Edward snapped to attention at once, his face darkening. "Not at all, Black," he replied, just as coldly; the air grew icy between them, crusting all over my skin, my eyes freezing widened as they were. I bit my lip, glancing from one to the other, wondering if I should say something to attempt to break the tension or whether I should just stay quiet. I did not want to have to get involve, as there was no end to the problems that could entail.

Luckily, someone else had noticed the increasingly darkening mood. "Edward!" Elizabeth called quietly from further down the table – she was only two or three places away, and Edward broke his and Jacob's stare-down to turn to her. She shook her head minutely at him, and mouthed something that I was not quick enough to understand, but Edward seemed to. When he turned back, his eyes were mild again, even though he carefully avoided looking at Jacob for a while after that.

Jacob drew me into conversation soon after, and even whilst I laughed over yet another of his endlessly intriguing stories, I could not help but glance, worried, at Edward, who was unnaturally quiet. I felt somehow guilty that I was not including him in the conversation, but every time I tried he simply replied monosyllabically before staring glumly at his plate, which was emptying much faster than the rest of ours were. I bit my lip, unable to concentrate on Jacob's smiling, warm face as I worried – I tried to tell myself that it did not matter. That there was no need for Jacob and Edward to get along, because it was not imperative that they did. My best friend and...whatever Jacob may be? No...there was no need. I did not care.

But, truthfully: I knew I did care. I knew I did want for them all to get along, because it was important. I did not know how, but I could not stand watching Edward's unhappiness.

When he stood up quietly and left, I thought it was only I that noticed – everyone else was deep in mid-breakfast conversation, and Edward's sudden departure was not of consequence to them. I watched him leave, part of me aching to follow and embrace him, and another part of me aching to follow and confront him for his ridiculous behaviour. I watched Edward until he rounded the corner, stalking away out of sight, and then I sighed, turning back to my plate and beginning to pick at my napkin in my lap.

All too soon everything was falling apart again.

"Did Masen leave?" Jacob asked nonchalantly – I glanced at him wearily, his happy, smiling gaze unable to brighten me as it usually did. His enthusiasm could not infect me today.

"I suppose so," I murmured noncommittally; Jacob snorted.

"Good riddance, I say."

"Do you not like Edward, Jacob?" I asked before I could stop myself, my temper prodded by his obvious disdain for my best friend, feeling a fire light up in my chest as I looked up, catching Jacob's gaze again – he looked mildly surprised, and it was only then that I realised the ferocity with which I said it. I blushed, opening my mouth then closing it again, at a loss for any way to take it back, opting to simply redirect my gaze across the table, pretending to look around the room so I would not have to see Jacob's reaction. I noted that my father and uncle were arguing – there was nothing usual about that – Jacob's Mother and Mama were obviously engaging in trivial but pleasant conversation, judging from the looks on their faces. I moved on, skimming over Aunt who was simply staring into space, my cousins, Jacob's father, Edward's father...then my eyes settled on Elizabeth, and I was shocked to find that she was staring straight back at me.

She held my gaze, then slowly mouthed: _Edward_. Then she widened her eyes, and stared at me in a way I knew was imploring.

She wanted me to go after him.

It made sense – she was his mother after all – but I could not understand why it seemed to be so urgent. She mouthed _please_, and I shrugged, trying to ask her why. She just shook her head minutely, as she had done for Edward, then showed me her hands, clasped together, fingers interlocked. _Please, Bella _she mouthed again, tilting her head to the side, asking me to go. I frowned at her, then sighed, nodding my head.

_Alright_, I mouthed back, and she smiled, her gaze abruptly shifting to where Edward had gone. I followed it, then asked her, as quietly as I could: "Is he ok?"

She shook her head, and that was enough for me.

I began to push my chair back, and both Jacob and Mama, who seemed to have noticed my movements in the blink of an eye, called out: "Bella?"

"Where are you going?" Mama carried on, attracting the attention of the entire breakfast table with the tone of her voice – she knew exactly where I was going, and I knew she did not like it. I blushed as I attempted to think of a reply, all the while aware of Elizabeth's worried gaze.

"I...I...may I be excused, Mama?"

"Is there any reason?" she quickly replied shrewdly; I bit my lip, attempting to think of a viable answer.

"Erm...I...well-"

"It is fine, Isabella," Uncle suddenly boomed jovially from down the table, looking much more red-faced now they had begun to bring the morning brandy round – he was always in a better mood nearer the end of breakfast, and in a worse one at the end of lunch. "Renee," he carried on imperiously, "Let the child go where she pleases."

If looks could kill, I thought as I stood up quietly at once and left, leaving Mama and Papa to share those looks that I didn't understand but knew concerned me, my Uncle would surely be dead.

I moved away, sighing gently as the whole table began whispering behind me, like nothing more than gossiping washerwomen – I turned against the wall as I rounded the corner, when I was sure I was out of sight, and dropped my head into my hands. I moaned lightly, slowly massaging my forehead with the backs of my palms, attempting to soothe the ache there. Tension had me bent over double, my stomach twisting, unable to relax: the continual worry about everything was wearing me down. Edward, Jacob, Alice and Jasper, Mama, Papa...

"Bella?" I opened my eyes and he was there, his tall, lean form close to me; I straightened up as he reached out to me.

"Do you not like Jacob, Edward?" I asked suddenly, in a wholly different tone than when I had asked Jacob – with Jacob it was imperative that I was cautious, careful, polite, and a million other things so that he did not grow suspicious of my asking. Jacob could not know just how much I cared that he did not, and it was not just because of that instinct of protection over Edward that I had. Embarrassingly – the thought still made me blush, hours afterwards – I did not want him knowing how important it was to me that he and my best friend were able to be in the same room together without attempting to crush each other's skulls, and I did suspect that both of them had been toying with the idea. I did not want Jacob knowing how important their friendship had to be, because I did not want to have to choose between them. I liked to think, highly romantically, I would choose Jacob if I had to, but something in me doubted myself. As if I already knew the answer, and, in actuality, my hopes were wrong.

I shook the thoughts away and concentrated as Edward dropped his hand and gazed at me, something in his face that, as always, I could not think to understand. His normal, familiar crooked smile was there, but his face was not alight with it. His normal, familiar green eyes were watching me, but there was a sadness in them. When he finally spoke, his voice was somehow different.

"I do, Bella," he said finally, smiling at me; I smiled back, desperate to believe him, even though something in me knew he was lying.

"Really? You do?"

He laughed a little, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, even though it was there. "Of course I do," he said, his voice unnaturally bright, "What is not to like? Besides, any friend of yours is...is a friend of mine."

I stared at him for a second longer, then I leaned back against the wall again, letting it support all my weight as I sighed deeply; Edward leant up beside me and watched inquisitively. "I loathe it here," I said finally, "I absolutely loathe it. You have all become such misers."

Edward chuckled lightly, "I miss home: that is why I am such a miser, as you call me."

"And what of Alice?" I asked him, glancing to him; he shrugged a little.

"I could not tell you, Bella." I narrowed my gaze, suspecting that he was not telling the truth, but after a second or two I decided it did not matter to me. I murmured noncommittally and stared back up at the ceiling again; we stood there together in silence for a minute or two, and then a voice claimed my attention.

"Bella?" Jacob appeared from around the corner, his smile on full power – it dimmed a little when he saw Edward, but he carried on, "We are all going walking on the moors; would you mind if I was the one to accompany you?"

"No, not at all, Jacob," I said at once, smiling in return and moving away from Edward; Jacob held out his arm and I took it, turning to smile at Edward, "Are you coming, Edward?"

"Yes," Edward smiled back at me, "I do love a good walk."

*

Edward was in ridiculously high spirits on the journey back to Derbyshire, "Are you not glad to be going home at last?" he asked me cheerfully, and whilst Alice replied in the affirmative, I mumbled vaguely in response, my eyes on the window rather than him. I was more concerned with how my Uncle's estate was slipping away, and how the large, neatly-trimmed bushes were melting into wild tangles of leaves and branches, the tamed grass abruptly widening into uneven fields of yellow-green that swayed haphazardly in the wind. I watched and craned my neck until I could see the grand house no more, then I sighed, sitting back in my seat and resting my head against the carriage wall, letting my eyes slide shut. Contrary to what I had thought: I was going to miss Hertfordshire.

Or, more precisely: Jacob Black. At least, I expected that I would. He had kissed me lightly on the cheek when we all said goodbye, instead of dropping a kiss to my gloved hand, and I had blushed, smiling despite myself. When I had turned to sit opposite Edward, as the carriage pulled away, he looked distinctly redder in the face than I.

But I would miss too the long, tiring walks among the beautiful, wild moors, the hills and the streams, the endless skies...I had not expected to feel this way. Usually I was wildly happy to be returning to Derbyshire – it was my home, my natural resting place, and anywhere else simply felt uncomfortable to me. But now I felt strangely sad.

I opened my eyes again, intending to stare out the window and feel very forlorn for the rest of the journey, but was distracted by an amused pair of sparkling green eyes watching me from across the carriage; Edward was sitting opposite me, wearing his familiar crooked grin and a gray travelling hat which he had acquired on our family trip to the market in the local town the day before and had grown very attached to. I suspected this was mostly because Jacob had been teasing him about the fact that he was so much taller than him, and even though Jacob meant it all in jest, Edward did not take to the jibes too well.

It sat just as crookedly on his head as his smile did on his mouth, making Edward appear slightly mad, and I could not help but laugh at how queer he looked. "Edward," I said, my smile reappearing, reaching out to toss it off his head before sitting back again and twirling it around in my fingers, "If you cannot wear it right, do not wear it at all."

"I am wearing it right!" he insisted, crossing his arms in mock offence but not taking the hat back, instead adding to Alice, "It is the latest fashion, right, Alice?"

"Oh, would you stop?" she grumbled, as any mention of my name seemed to make her prone to do, yanking it out of my hands ruthlessly and throwing it back onto his lap. "You are only wearing it stupidly so Bella will stop moping and mooning out of the window and start acting like a sane person who is only sad to leave because she made a friend," she said to him, rather viciously, I thought; each word sounded as if she wanted to make them hurt.

Edward widened his eyes and pursed his lips at her ferocity, quietening down and shrinking back into his seat but not looking entirely surprised. He put the aberrant garment back onto of his hair, where it sat, precariously balanced, turning to look out of the window as I took offence, turning to her with an angry gasp, "Alice! That was simply uncalled for!"

She sighed, murmuring in what seemed like a forced manner, "Sorry. I did not mean it."

"What is wrong with you, Alice?" I asked, my temper prodded into life by her comments, my exasperations with her making my voice sharper than I had intended; I attempted to soften my tone, knowing there was no use in shouting at her, as there never had been. With Alice, if you shouted at her, a wall would slide up between you and her, and she would simply stare blankly at you and not say a word. She could be extremely uncompromising when she wished, my little sister. "Why are you being so sharp with me?"

She sighed, reaching out to take my hand, rubbing it between hers, "Truly, I am sorry, Bella. I have simply been away from home for too long." She glanced out the window, and I followed her gaze, watching the deep blue summer sky roll by, "I do not like it here," she said slowly, then she blushed a little, looking back to smile lightly at me, "And I miss Jasper."

Edward made a noise akin to a snort, "He is just in the other carriage, Alice." She quickly flashed away from me; seconds later he was rubbing his arm and looking affronted, "Ouch, Alice."

"Do not mock me then, Edward," she said, something serious in her tone; they stared at each other for a second, but then the tension was broken as she laughed, reaching out to muss his hair, "I do apologize, though, sir." Edward crossed his arms and grumbled lightly, as Alice continued to laugh – I watched this all with a growing feeling of righteousness; as if the world was slowly turning good again, and everyone was happier for it. The reason, in reality, was simple. We were all happy to be going home.

*

"It is getting dark, Bella!" Mama called to me as I lingered at the front door – Edward had already slipped out, "Do not dare to even think of going out there now!"

"Yes, Mama," I called absentmindedly, and I heard her disappear down the corridor.

Edward grinned at me, and I was unable to restrain myself from the temptation. "Are you coming?" he called, slowly jogging backwards away from me, his smile glorious sunny, making me feel warm inside. And, as I knew I would: I picked up my skirts and ran after him, heading into the sunset as he was, taking his outstretched hand as I reached him. He smiled and squeezed my fingers, twirling me round once before saying, "Thank you, Bella."

Something in his words conceded that he meant more than he said, but I could not think of that now. I simply smiled back at him, before we both turned, eyes narrowed against the sunlight, and carried on as we always had. I turned to look at him, the thought of how beautiful he was suddenly striking me - complications or no complications; I hoped that things would always be this way.

So why did I feel something stirring? Like I was sailing on clear waters, admiring the clear blue sky and the quietly still waters. But something was coming...a storm was fast approaching, soon to rock my boat and throw me out into the sea...

Would I drown or not?

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	9. Pact

**Goddd, all this dragging it all out is starting to irritate me now - oh, the troubles of a writer ;) No joke, I knew this would have to happen, but it's starting to drive me so insane I'm glad the exciting chapters are coming up vaiir soon! Only maybe one to go now, guys...I'm so excited for it all to move on :D**

**This is Un-Betad, simply because I have exams tomorrow and I need to get this up now or in two weeks - since my Beta hasn't got back to me, I have to do this now. But I hope you like it - please leave your comments at the end, even one word would be totally and completely AWESOME! I live for your reviews, guys, and you know it ;)**

**DISCLAIMER - SM owns all, but I own the slightly trashy plot-line ;)**

**Love you all! Read on, my brave warriors!**

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"Jacob!" I cried in delight, descending the staircase as fast as my slippered feet would take me – he looked up from assisting his father in dragging trunks through our front hall, and he smiled sunnily at me.

"Good morning, Miss Bella."

"Mama told me you had arrived," I beamed, stopping as I neared him; he bowed in greeting, his smile growing as I inclined my head in return before taking his arm. "Come," I said, pulling him towards the stairs, "She wishes to greet you in person. You too, Mr Black!" I called behind me; I barely heard his answer as I turned to Jacob again, almost too excited to see him, hardly able to contain myself, "How have you been?"

"No hurry, of course, Miss Bella," he answered, quite obviously teasing me on my hasty words and questions - I blushed as I realised how forward I was being, and quickly corrected myself.

"Of course," I replied, stepping back from his arm as we climbed the stairs together, falling back on common courtesy; I took a breath before asking again, much more demurely, "Master Black, you look well - may I enquire as to your health and goings-on since we last met?" I pulled my hand from his arm and folded my fingers at my skirt, looking at him expectantly; he laughed.

"Miss Bella, there is really no need to act like my Grandmother," he took my hand and placed it back in the crook of his arm, smiling at me, "I was sure we were better acquainted than she and I are," he leaned in as if to whisper a secret, "And besides," he winked one eye at me, "It is a terrible bore, talking to her." I stared at him, quickly attempting to wonder whether he meant that as a compliment to me or an insult to both his grandmother and myself - I bit my lip, and he obviously noticed my confusion, laughing again. "You really are slow sometimes," he said, his smile widening. "I do not like my grandmother, Bella."

"Oh." When it became obvious to him that I still did not completely understand his laughter increased, and it took me another second before I understood enough to laugh along with him. "It has been too long, Jacob," I said, smiling at him as he laughed, the sound jovial and bright.

"That is true, Miss Bella," Jacob smiled back at me, his dark eyes crinkled at the corners in a way that matched his wide, sunny grin; he stopped me as we ascended the final step on our grand staircase, moving around to face me, kissing the top of my hand, "Far, far too long." The tone of his voice was too serious compared to my trivial observation, and, instead of fighting my natural flush, I turned away, changing the topic of conversation quickly. I did not want to start a serious conversation with him concerning how much we may or may not have missed each other – I knew I had missed his conversation, but I was not sure how much. Life had been easy without him there these past few months, as summer slowly fled and winter took its place, the world slowly growing colder around me...I had expected it to be hard, as it should be with someone you intended to perhaps fall in love with...but it was not as hard as I thought it would be.

"Have you seen the snow?" I said stiffly, conversationally, walking to the window and beginning to draw patterns on the frosted window pane; I attempted to ignore his sigh as I focused on putting the finishing touches to a tulip, and thankfully then Mama appeared on the scene.

"Master Black," she cried warmly; I turned to find Jacob standing no more than a foot away from me, his hand outstretched. He pulled it back as if something had bit it as Mama approached us.

"Lady Swan," he said respectfully, bowing from the waist before she had ever reached us – Jacob knew his manners inside and out, much better than I – and Mama smiled, bowing in return.

"Good afternoon, Master Black; I assume your father and mother are on their way?"

"Father is just helping Lucien unload the carriage," Jacob answered; I noticed he stood a head taller than Mama, and he was only just seventeen, "Regretfully, Rachel fell ill with a cold just before we were due to leave, and Mother and Rebecca chose to stay and nurse her."

"Oh, what a shame," Mama said, "You must send our good wishes to your mother and Rachel whilst you are here." Whilst Jacob nodded and smiled, she held out a hand to me, taking my elbow and drawing me to her, "Bella, darling, go and wake your Father and tell him the male Blacks are here, won't you?"

"Yes, Mama," I smiled, "Of course." Mama brushed a hand over my neatly styled hair, patting it gently before putting a hand to the small of my back, pushing me in the right direction. I was secretly glad to be away from Jacob, and I hurried past him at once, lending him a small smile as I passed; I heard Mama and he retreat the other way towards the reception room, where I knew Alice and tea had been stationed, along with plenty of topics for small talk. My mother and father had grown to like the Blacks immensely, and, I knew, had invited them here not only for a visit, but also because of the friendship between Jacob and I. One of my late night returns to the house after a particularly enjoyable afternoon with Edward had me sneaking through the dark corridors, and, as I had when I was younger, I happened upon a conversation between my parents that I was not supposed to hear.

"It is an absolute perfect match," Mama had been saying, the glee clear in her voice; I had stopped despite myself, my heart pumping hard and fast, "Absolutely perfect!"

"Now, Renee," Papa's slow, calm voice intervened, "We know nothing of the boy's personality-"

"Oh, Charlie, do not be so ridiculous," Mama scoffed, "He is easily one of the nicest young men I have ever been inclined to meet, except for..."

She trailed off, but Papa finished for her.

"Except for Edward."

I had not stayed to listen to them compare Edward and Jacob against one another, or debate which one would be a better match for me – it was awkward, confusing, and painful to hear, all at the same time. I did not want to imagine myself paired with Edward, did not want to think of us together...married...with children, red haired, green eyes...kissing him at an altar...

I shook my head, desperately trying to free myself of those thoughts – how could I so easily imagine marrying Edward, my best friend, of all people, but not Jacob? – but they kept pressing at my mind, snapping at my heels, making me wonder, making me doubt. I quickened my step, needing my Father's conversation as a distraction from those red haired, green eyed children who were skipping round my head. When I reached his door, I pushed it open gently, aware that he was most likely sleeping. "Father?" I whispered, wincing as the hinges on the old wooden door creaked agedly, protesting, "Father, are you awake?"

"Yes, petal," his voice was soft, weary, and I bit my lip as I pushed the door open further, to see him dimly in the low light.

"Are you alright, Father?" I asked, worried, moving towards him, kneeling down and taking his hand – he had quite obviously only just awoken, and his hand was limb and cold as ice. I rubbed it between my palms as he turned his head to smile at me.

"Do not be anxious, petal," he reached out with his other hand, turning over slightly, chucking my chin with one knuckle, smiling wryly, "I am simply weary, that is all. You can tell your Mama I will be out in no less than twenty minutes." I supported him still as he sat up, and I did not miss how his breath caught or how his face went a frightening shade of gray; I had not fully grasped how ill Papa actually was until then, and it horrified me to see him so weak.

"Father, you needn't get up if you feel terrible," I assured him quickly, not wanting him to get up at all; if anything, I wanted him to go straight back to sleep and not leave the room until he was entirely better. He assured me he felt fine, but when he could not even raise the energy to stand I pushed him straight back under the bedclothes. "Father," I said sternly, firmly, "You are not getting out of this bed, and that is final." I tucked him in, even as he protested weakly, "I will ask Mary to prepare you some tea and broth, and I will send Mama to sit with you when she is finished with Mr Black and Jacob."

The tone of my voice was as such that he could not argue, and besides: Papa was a smart man. He knew I was right, and that his condition was such that anyone would understand why he could not receive them. I kissed him on the forehead gently, smiling at him, feeling incredibly protective of him in that moment; it was not usual that I could take care of Papa – rather, he was the one taking care of all of us. "I'll make sure Mama is here within the hour," I said, knowing it was her company he wanted, and when he sat back and sighed a thank you, his eyes drifting closed, I smiled. "You are always welcome, Papa," I said, before slipping away, out through the door, closing it carefully when I was sure he had fallen asleep again.

I informed Mama, and she was gone much faster than I had thought she would be – almost within five minutes she had Mr Black and Jacob shown to their rooms, and then she was gone. Alice headed the other way, muttering something about Jasper – she spent near all of her time with him by then, but I was not one to judge; there was hardly anyone else her age to talk to – and Jacob took my hand as his father disappeared down the corridor, towards their room.

He asked if I would show him around, and I accepted, glad for his now easy conversation; we were exchanging views on fox hunting when I heard Edward's voice echo jovially down the corridor, and suddenly I felt the urge to run and hide – I had ripped my hand from Jacob's without thinking, and he was looking at me, obviously a little stunned. I bit my lip as Edward called, "Bella? Bella! You will never guess what I have just discovered! Bell-" Edward's voice cut short as he rounded the corner, his bright smile immediately darkening as he caught sight of Jacob. His eyes flicked between us, too close together, and I immediately, involuntarily, took a step away. I could not think why I had done it – there was no reason for it, but the look on Edward's face had me stirring with guilt. He looked...betrayed.

And, though I could not think why, I felt terrible.

"Jacob," Edward said, his voice suddenly cold and crisp – the atmosphere tensed at once, and there was moment of silence. I stood there, waiting for something to happen, waiting for a reaction...Edward had said he liked Jacob a mere few months ago, but the expression on his face spoke tomes. It led me to believe he had been lying.

A voice in my head scoffed, informing me that it had been obvious at the time. Edward had never liked Jacob, and it was only wishful thinking on my part that he had. Before I could say a word, Edward had turned on his heel and left – I could feel Jacob staring at me, but my sight was suddenly blurred. I pushed the tears from my eyes, dragging my wet fingers across my cheeks to dry them, then turned back to Jacob, forcing a smile, and he smiled back.

Later, after showing Jacob around – my mood improved within a few minutes of his company, though the guilt I felt about the pain on Edward's face gnawed at me for hours afterwards – we were in the library, sliding up and down the lines of bookcases on the ladders. He was much more courageous than I, and had climbed all the way to the top of his; he was whooping and flying far too fast. I, on the other hand, ever-conscious of the time I had broken an arm while sliding around with Edward when I was eight, hovered nearer to the ground, only ascending a rung when I felt particularly invigorated.

When I fell off – it was only a short fall and only left me winded – Jacob simply hung off his ladder and laughed heartily at my bemused expression. It only took me a second to regain my senses before I suddenly began laughing too, strangely finding the whole situation as hilarious as Jacob obviously did. He jumped off his ladder and collapsed on the floor next to me, still laughing. "Is there no time when you do not manage to hurt yourself in some way?" he chuckled; I sighed, lacing my fingers across my abdomen.

"You just ask Edward – he spends most of his time saving me from falling down the stairs."

There was a beat of silence, and I lay there, relaxed, leisurely awaiting Jacob's answer, unaware of the mistake I had made yet again in mentioning Edward. It seemed that mentioning the other's name in either of their company always resulted in a ruined conversation. "You talk about him often," Jacob said, and I had to stop myself from hitting him. I could not understand why neither of them could resist quizzing me about my relationship with the other – it was starting to wear my patience thin.

"Well," I said, trying to make my nonchalance apparent so as to send him my message of indifference towards the whole subject, "I do spend quite a bit of my day with him. And Alice, mind you," I added, so he would not get the wrong impression – Jacob was better than most at seeing others for something other than their status, but caution had always been my motto.

"I have seen," he said – it seemed my nonchalance had not thrown him off, "You two are very close."

"Close?" I attempted to sound incredulous, "Edward and I?" I laughed, but it sounded humourless and forced, and Jacob was quite obviously not fooled.

"You are," he declared, even though there was no need for it – Jacob was almost as skilled as Edward at seeing through my lies, "You are very close with him." Jacob sighed, stating suddenly, "He does not like me."

"What?" I knew as soon as I said it that Jacob could tell I was lying; I sighed, giving up. "No. But you do not like him either," I continued, perceptive only to unnerve him into admitting the truth.

"No," he said.

"Why not?" I asked him, the question burning in my throat – I was somehow desperate to know, but afraid to know as well. I did not know what Jacob might say, but I was afraid of what he might say. What it might mean, their dislike of each other. When it had gone this far, it was hardly their male egotistical natures that were causing it – there was some deeper reason. "Jacob, I wish to understand," I said, even though there was a part of me that did not, "There has to be a reason-"

He interrupted me, "I like you, Bella. I like you very much." I fell silent, wincing as I felt him move closer to me – I closed my eyes, too frightened for him to come near but too frightened of the fact that something inside me was screaming for him to move away...that was frightened of how close he was to me. "And," his voice was even closer, "Your Edward knows it."

My eyes flew open, and I had to push back a squeak of surprise to find him only an inch away from me, his gaze locked on my face – I was unable to look into his eyes, my breathing fast and unsteady, my eyes staring at his lips, which were close...too close...I could barely hear him whisper my name through the rushing in my ears. Instinctively, uncontrollably, my lips breathed out a name of its own, one that I could not stop them from speaking. "My...Edward?"

The moment was broken, and I raised my gaze just quick enough to see something dwindle and die in Jacob's dark eyes; I cleared my throat as he rolled away, pushing myself up off the floor to wrap my arms around my legs, rocking gently backwards and forwards, attempting to calm myself – it could not have been terror pulsing through me, because that went against every love story I had ever known. Jacob was looking away, and I bit my lip, wondering what he would do next, and when he did not speak, I asked a question instead. One that I knew I should not ask, but I could not help myself. "Edward?" I said again, my voice quiet and unsteady, "He...he knows?"

Jacob looked at me then, and for once, he was not smiling. "Of course he knows," he said, something mocking in his voice that was quite unlike him, "How do you think he could not?" When I would not answer, dropping my chin back on my knees and staring at the set of encyclopaedias sitting on the shelves in front of me, Jacob dared to say, "He likes you too, you know."

My head snapped up. "Stop it, Jacob," I said quickly, my heart beginning to pump, hard, "You are being ridiculous."

"Probably more than I do."

I had had enough. "I am leaving." I swept myself off the floor – gracefully and haughtily, for once – and left the room, making sure that my heels clicked loud enough off the marble that even my steps were affronted. Jacob did not attempt to follow me as I fled.

*

A couple were standing in the west wing hallway, obviously not wishing to be interrupted – I twisted round when I saw them on the way to my room, pressing myself back against the wall, out of sight. I breathed deeply, my face flushing red as my mind inevitably played back the scene which I had just glimpsed; it had not been Mama and Papa. Slowly, very carefully and quietly, I peeked out from behind the wall again, and my jaw quite literally dropped open, hanging there in my surprise.

Alice and Jasper. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, she was on her toes, their mouths pressed together, his hands at her waist...I had to muffle a gasp, my fingers coming up to tremble at my mouth; I flushed red as Jasper pulled away, before hugging my little sister to his chest and saying something I could not understand. I pulled away too, retreating behind the wall again, sliding down its smooth surface and landing heavily on the floor. I pressed my face into my knees and curled up, my whole body suddenly cold – I saw it, over and over and over and over again, and a terrible feeling came over me. The inevitability of growing up, of getting older, the terror made my blood run cold. My sister was growing apart from me, falling in love...already...I had not even noticed, and yet here it all was. Everything seemed to be rushing in on me – I was nearly seventeen, of marrying age, and then there was Jacob, expecting things from me, and Edward too, and Mama and Papa and...an intense feeling of panic washed over me. I remembered again how close Jacob had been to me, how close his lips had been to mine, how terrified I had been...Edward's silences, his refusal to come near Jacob, the sadness on his face whenever I looked at him...Papa's illnesses, Mama and her expectations...Alice and Jasper...when had everything become so hard to understand? I had to choke back a scream of frustration, balling my fists up and pressing my knuckles into my forehead.

When had we all become so old? When had everything become so complicated? When had I had to...to grow up?

I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, even when Alice and Jasper's voiced faded away in harmony with their retreating footsteps. I had cried a little, and my knees were wet; there was a lump in my throat that no amount of gulping would dislodge.

I was afraid. That was all there was to it. The whole world was out there, and I was terrified of all of it.

Everyone else seemed able to adapt – why could I not? What was it that was frightening me?

"Bella?" My head snapped up, and my neck cracked; Edward winced at the sound, "Bella, are you alright? Alice, Jasper and me have been looking for you for hours."

"I'm fine," I said immediately, reflexively, quickly shoving myself to my feet and dusting myself off – I tried to smile at him, "Never better. Just..."

"Hiding?"

I hated how he was so perceptive. "No," I denied, my breath hissing past my teeth as I made a sceptical sort of sound, "What on earth would give you that idea?"

He smiled gently, "Jacob told me that you and he fought – he does not know this house, so he did not know where to find you to apologise. I offered to find you for him."

"Oh." I had not much else to say; I bit the tip of my tongue as I stared up at him. "Well," I choked out, "That was...erm...kind of you."

"I live to serve."

There was a deeper meaning behind his words – no one could say I did not know Edward as well as he knew me, and I could certainly tell when he meant more than he said. I sighed, weary, "Jacob can wait, I suppose: he will be here tomorrow. I can talk to him then."

"How long will he be here for?" Edward asked, leaning up against the wall next to me; I shrugged, really too tired of it all to wonder what he meant behind the words.

"I could not tell you – a month, maybe two?" I sighed, twisting my thumbs together, "I suppose it all depends on how much they enjoy themselves here."

"You will be spending a lot of time with him, then?" Edward asked; my reply was swift because I was tired, and my hatred of his questions made me a little bit cruel. If he hated Jacob, fine: I could play the game myself.

"Oh yes," I said, carefully not looking at him, "Mama insists upon it."

*

"So Sunday is now our day," Edward said satisfactorily, gazing out across the lake, "We will come out here, by ourselves, and spend time together?"

"Alright," I replied, laughing gently, "Though I still do not see why we have to schedule our time together: can we not just leave when we feel the need to?"

"Not anymore, Bella," Edward said; I turned to look at him, though he did not look at me as he carried on, "Jacob will take up all of your time, and you will forget about me...well, at least, that is what I think will happen." He sighed, "This way I at least have a reason to drag you away...a pact is all I have." He held out his hand, "Deal?"

I shook it, albeit bemusedly, "Deal." After a minute or two of silence, my unnervingly incontrollable curiosity got the better of me. "Why do you not like Jacob, Edward?" I asked; his furtive glance at me was infinitesimal, but I caught it before he looked away.

He was lying when he acted surprised, "Not like Jacob?" His voice was false, "What could give you that idea?"

"Oh, come off it, Edward," I scoffed, "You have hated him since the first day you met." I glanced at him, narrowing my gaze so he would know that he could not lie to me anymore, "I know it, Edward. You can stop pretending now."

"I have not been pretending," even he knew the effort was pointless now, "I really do like Jacob – we are best friends."

I glanced at him contemptuously, "Edward, you really are dreadful at lying." I sighed, "If you were going to keep the fact that you hate him from me, you could have at least tried a little harder."

He nudged me, even as I tried not to smile when he laughed, "I should have known – I really am terrible at keeping secrets, aren't I? What I was doing was my best attempt."

"You did not do a very good job even then," I replied, attempting to stay cold to him but not achieving it, the corners of my mouth twitching.

"I do not like him," Edward shrugged, "What can I say?"

"You can tell me why you dislike him."

There it was again – the slight hesitation...then the swift denial, "He and I do not get along – there is nothing I can do. Maybe we are too different."

"Maybe," I agreed noncommittally, in full knowledge that he was holding something from me, but too weary of it all to care anymore. Let Edward hate Jacob, or whatever it was that was irritating him and making him so easily changeable. He was never unkind to me, and if he chose to keep things from me and lie, so be it. It did not matter. Besides, I was completely unable to resist his laugh, or his voice, or the way he smiled at me when he wanted to be forgiven – the way he was smiling at me then.

"I am sorry, my Isabella," he said teasingly, and I crossed my arms, turning away so he could not see me smile – then he would know he had won. I heard him chuckle, and I rolled my eyes, pinching my lips with my teeth, attempting to keep the curve of my lips back, even as I felt him move closer, his fingers suddenly ghosting at my waist, threatening to make me laugh with the sensation. "Forgive me?" he chuckled in my ear, and something in me tightened as my heart began to beat, loud and strong. I shivered in reaction, my teeth clashing together absurdly loudly, and something slipped over my shoulders. "You're cold," Edward murmured, his arms both around me then, holding me close to him, his warmth radiating through me; my breathing caught and I shuddered again, my hands shaking.

I gave in, resting my head on his shoulder, pulling his coat a little closer over me and ducking my head, if only so I could not hear what he was murmuring under his breath.

The feelings he was ensuing were frightening me.


	10. In the Winter's Snow

**It's short - but Chapter 11 is written, and about twice as long :D It should be up later tonight**

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"Gah!" I started awake, sitting ramrod straight up in bed, surprise and heat trickling through me as my dream abruptly dissipated – absurdly vivid, it began to roughen around the edges, slow enough that I could just remember but too quick for me to hold onto it. I breathed deeply, heat rushing to my face as one memory flashed through my mind for a second.

Had that...had that been _Edward_ kissing me in my sleep?

I struggled to catch the disappearing edges of my evaporating dream, but my mental clawing was to no avail – all I could remember was a flash of bronze, and shimmering green, and the warm touch of something against my lips among light blue grass. I could not even remember who it had been, but I had certainly known in my dream...I shook my head, clearing the residue from behind my eyes, noticing that my heart was racing and my breathing was laboured. Slowly, wondering what on earth had shocked me awake, I lay back down, pressing a hand to my chest and attempting to soothe myself, murmuring quiet words in my head and breathing deeply until my heart began to beat normally and the heat drained from my face.

I lay there, in the dark, focusing my breathing and attempting to gather myself – I assumed, from the faint light seeping underneath the heavy curtains that it was sometime near dawn. The light was gray and weak, the cold leading me to believe that the sun hadn't risen yet but its light was just beginning to break through the clouds. I shivered, pulling the blankets up closer around me and turning onto my side, curling up and intending to have a few more hours asleep before I remembered that I had promised to meet Edward on the first day that it snowed enough to build a man out of it. Since it looked very likely these days, I had checked whenever I woke up before going back to sleep.

Yawning, I pushed myself out of bed, the cold hitting me as if the window had been left open and there was a gale outside. I shivered, dragging the bedclothes with me as I padded to the window, blinking the tiredness from my eyes and attempting to keep them open against the bright light that streamed through the windows as I lethargically tugged on the curtains. But the light reflecting off the pure white snow that was scattered liberally across the landscape was simply too harsh against my tired eyes, and I threw an arm up, cursing quietly under my breath (I was not going to tell anyone who taught me those words).

I rubbed my eyes then looked again, my mouth dropping open at the sight – after a stunned second, I suddenly launched into movement. I flung myself away from the window, running at once to my closet; I dressed myself quickly, pulling on the warmest, thickest material I could find. Grabbing my leather winter boots I checked my reflection in the mirror whilst tugging them on before throwing my door open and rushing out.

I laughed in delight as I took another look outside – the snow was simply suffocating the land, tucked into every little nook and cranny, into every pocket of air; it was even still falling, in great, thick flakes, drifting slowly to the ground before disappearing into the heaps of fresh snow.

I slid down the banister, whooping the whole way.

"Edward, Edward!" he came dashing out of a nearby corridor as soon as I began shouting for him, and we both slid into each other – he grabbed hold of my arms to steady me before shouting excitedly:

"Have you seen it, Bella?"

"I know, I know!" I screeched in reply, grinning at him, "It is so thick...you could practically drown in it!"

"Bella!" Alice appeared suddenly, sliding down the main banister, already dressed in her thick coat and mittens, "We must go out there right now!" She laughed, "Is it not exciting?"

"It is amazing!" Edward cried, having moved to the window and rubbed his palm against the pane, melting away the frost – we all pressed our noses to the glass in order to gaze at the thick layer of pure white snow that covered all of everything. The trees looked several inches thicker than they should, the hills that surrounded us a few metres taller in the sky, and there were deep marks in the snow where someone had already walked – or waded – through it, heading off towards the west. I cried out in delight as the sun began to rise in the clear, ice-blue sky, making the ground sparkle; it was absolutely beautiful.

"Come, we must go out there at once!" I said, making for the door; I was stopped by a gentle hand on my arm, and turned to find Jasper there, holding out my thick woollen cloak, my mittens and my fur hat.

"Not so fast, Bella," he said, smiling, "Do you want to catch a cold?"

I rolled my eyes, taking the garments off him and smiling, "Sometimes, Jasper, I wonder if we really are the same age – you are so much more grown up than me."

Jasper laughed, "Nothing like good planning, Bella." I smiled, the gesture tightening as Alice stepped forward and took his hand – I was keeping quiet about what I knew was between them, but it did not mean that it still did not trouble me a little. I felt Edward come up beside me, taking my cloak and holding it out so I could clasp it around my neck. I rolled my eyes but smiled at him all the same, pulling my mitts over my hands; Edward fitted my hat over my eyes, and I slapped him away before pushing it up so I could see and grinning at everyone.

"Can we go now?" Edward laughed and took my gloved hand, pulling me towards the door.

"You are far too impatient for your own good."

Within a few seconds I had got him in the face with a snowball, and war was waged.

It ended up as Alice and me against Edward and Jasper – they may have been big, but I had Alice on my side, and she was quick.

"Run, Bella!" she cried, laughing as she clung onto Jasper's back, attempting to pull him backwards into the snow – Edward fixed his eyes on me, and from the smile on his face I knew what he was planning. I ran, but quite obviously I was not fast enough.

I screeched as Edward fell on me, pushing us both into a snowdrift – snow flew everywhere as Edward rolled off me, both of us laughing hysterically. Our bodies were both sunken deep into the snow, so deep that I was sure the shapes of our bodies were pressed into them as we fell. It was cold, but I was laughing so much it was hard to move. "You fool!" I heard Edward laugh, turning my head to see him crash through the wall of ice between us – I laughed again, shaking my hair out and spluttering as it scattered across my cheeks.

"Me?" my voice was cracked from laughing, "You are the one who _fell _on me!"

"You tripped me," Edward replied, grinning – I scoffed.

"Did not."

He elbowed me, "You did!"

I elbowed him back, feeling so carefree and untroubled that I could not keep my laughter at bay, "I did not!"

Edward was about to retaliate when something hit him in the face – I sat up with a start, as Edward cursed loudly, to find Jacob standing there, grinning in triumph. "You are next, Bella," he said, his expression positively devilish, and I gulped at the size of the ball of snow he was holding.

"Jacob..." Edward's face was red.

The grin did not slip from Jacob's mouth, "Are you _frightened_, Bella?"

Edward was about to lose his grip, and I knew it; I bit my lip, "Jacob, I really would not..."

"You. Hit. Me," Edward growled, "With _that_."

Everyone seemed to have realised that Jacob had struck a nerve – if it had been anyone else, Edward would have just laughed it off, but this was most definitely different. It had become obvious to me over the past few weeks that Edward did not dislike Jacob: he absolutely detested him. And while this was definitely infuriating, it had not caused problems because Edward simply stayed away from Jacob...but now?

The rage on Edward's face told me all I needed to know.

I stood up, almost flinging myself between them, grabbing a surprised Jacob's arm and dragging him away, leaving a surprised Alice and Jasper to soothe a seething Edward. "Did I do something wrong?" Jacob asked, obviously stunned by Edward's reaction, and I bit my lip, lying straight through my teeth.

"Oh, it is nothing," I said, faking a smile, "He is just...the cold does not agree with him."

"Bella, he was _lying _in the snow."

"Well..." I was grasping for reasons, "He does not like getting his hair wet." When Jacob looked about to protest, I widened my smile, "Why, look at the time! I think it must be time for morning tea," my voice was high and pitchy, but all I wanted was to steer Jacob away and make him forget the incident, "Time to go back inside!" Jacob looked confused, but he did not protest, and I did not look back as I pulled him through the front door and into the house.

As the next few weeks went by, the situation simply got worse. Jacob claimed nearly every minute of my time, as Alice left to spend time with a cousin in London and Jasper went with her. Mama was constantly watching me and reminding me to keep our guest happy, and all the while Edward sunk deeper and deeper into the depths of the house, until he hardly left his room. It was seldom I could find a minute to hammer on his door and demand his presence, and even then he was nearly always distant and colder than the weather.

The snow slowly slipped away as the warmer weather dragged in, seeping through the cracks in winter's icy armour until the twilight sky began to melt, draping itself across the landscape again. Jacob and I were out on the grounds, both standing on the steps that led into the garden, the dying light making it hard to see – I was staring up at the sky instead, watching the stars flicker into life. Jacob was watching me, but I was pretending not to notice.

"It is a beautiful night," I murmured gently, almost to myself; I had been so engrossed in watching the stars that I had almost forgotten he was there in the prolonged silence, and it startled me a little when he replied.

"It is." I turned to smile at him, unable to help myself from flushing as I realised his gaze was still on me, his eyes shadowed and intense; my heart began to pound as I turned away again, wrapping my arms tighter around myself.

I sensed the seriousness of his next words before I heard them.

"Bella..." my stomach clenched painfully in anticipation, though I could not make myself look round even though I knew Jacob had moved closer – the tone of his voice was frightening me. "Bella..." his whisper was low, and against the will of my rushing heart and my tumbling mind, I turned around.

What happened next all combined itself together, into a heady rush that left me reeling – somehow Jacob's arms were around me, his breathe on my cheeks...his lips on mine. I held perfectly still, unable to react, no knowledge of what to do or where to move. My hands were fists at my sides, my eyes shut only so I did not have to look at him: if I had thought instinct would guide me through this experience, I was wrong.

His lips were warm, and not unpleasant; his kiss was soft, his own mouth barely moving against my frozen one – my heart seemed to stop in that long moment, and the silence was all I could hear.

I knew I was not going to do anything, not to stop or to prolong it: I simply stood motionless, waiting it out, wanting nothing more than for it to be over.

I knew then that I was a terrible person.

From the light in Jacob's eyes when he pulled away, and in how he pulled me to him, I knew he had interpreted my stillness wrong – more than that: he had not noticed it. "Bella," Jacob murmured again throatily, his arms holding me tight – I buried my face in his shoulder, tears leaking down my cheeks, unable to keep from crying.

_Edward..._

Even as Jacob held me tenderly in his arms, I could not deny that I was thinking of another. Edward's eyes glowed in my mind; his voice reverberated in my ears – Jacob's touch felt nothing like his.

I could not understand why I could not like Jacob. Did not feel anything. Could not enjoy his arms around me, or even that first kiss we had just shared; Edward occupied my entire mind...and I felt bad. I felt guilty. Strangely so.

His face in my mind was flat, his eyes accusing. Accusing me of betraying him. But I could not understand how; Jacob was not replacing Edward in any way. Edward held a special place in my heart, one that Jacob could never hold – but I thought Jacob held another place in my heart. A different, ever more special place. Jacob was my good friend: that I knew. I knew that I loved him to that extent. But...maybe that was all he was. Maybe someone else held that special place – maybe nobody did.

Edward was my friend too.

So why did I feel this way? Why did I always think of him when I was with Jacob? Why did Edward's hand on mine, his skin on mine, make me react in ways that Jacob's did not? My tears flowed faster as Jacob whispered, "I love you, Bells."

I could not return his words. I was choked up – the words simply would not leave my throat. I did not want to say them as much as I could not. I could not tell him I loved him as he loved me when Edward was glaring at me, making me falter. I was not sure of myself. I did not know what I wanted, or whom I wanted. I could not make the leap without the knowledge that it was what I wanted to do. If I leapt now...I somehow knew I would never make it to the other side.

The answer, I reflected then, was simple. I did not love him.

Jacob deserved better than me.

"I..." I had to say something; I could not just be silent. "I..." I sobbed then, in pure sorrow, confusion and anguish running deep in me. Jacob rocked me gently, his arms tightening.

"Shush...you don't have to tell me. I know," he murmured, "I know."

He was so good. I hated myself for wanting to tear away and run to find Edward – run to him and get him to soothe me as I knew he could. I hated myself for not being able to return Jacob's affections, and I hated that I could not tell him why, as I did not know myself. I could not make myself love him, and in that was the reason why I knew I should stay silent. To love Jacob would be to force myself, and I knew well that love was never forced. Love was pure, and unadulterated, and spontaneous. Love could not be arranged, or put on – I knew so much of this, and from this I knew: I did not love Jacob.

A few minutes more – I was selfish; as much as I did not, and could not, love Jacob in the way he did me, I still wanted him as my friend. His embrace was comfortable and familiar, and I still wanted him there, as much as it was not completely satisfying. Jacob would be hurt by it, but I still could not help myself. I knew what it was that I must do, and so I wiped the tears from my face, slowly regaining my composure – but as I was about to step back, and withdraw myself from him, and look Jacob in the eye and tell him to leave me, forever, that I did not want him and that he should find a woman who could love him as much as he could love her, a voice that immediately made my blood run cold drifted through the air from behind me.

"Bella?"

I turned at once, jumping away from Jacob as if his body was red-hot; Edward stood there, in the darkness, a fleeting expression on his face as such it near broke my heart. As quickly as he re-arranged himself, his features turning flat within a second, I had already seen his reaction, and it was painful even to remember. My heart stuttered as he gazed at me, silent, and I stammered out in harmony with my jumping heart.

"Ed...Edward."

He took one look at me, then he turned and left.

The look in his eyes damn near broke my heart.

* * *

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	11. Crazy Love

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I bit the tip of my tongue as I glanced between a retreating Edward, who was quickly fading into the darkness, and a confused Jacob, who stood with me at the open front door, the light from the chandeliers reflected in his dark eyes. I took a confused breath, then sighed. "I am sorry...I...I must go after him. I am sorry." I repeated it again, then fled after Edward, not looking back, nor finding that I wanted to. I could not make myself feel bad. Edward needed me – I knew that much...and I knew Edward inside and out.

Besides, he seemed so sad...

I forced myself not to think of Jacob's kiss, and what I knew I had to tell him as I hurried behind Edward, finding it hard to see in the dark. "Edward? Edward!" I called, "Please, Edward, stop!" I huffed exasperatedly as I picked up my skirts and ran faster, determined to catch up with him. Darn those stiff ball gowns – the endless number of petticoats made them impossible to make haste in. "Edward!" I began to grow angry – he was obviously ignoring me, and I had no idea what I had done. "Edward, I mean it, stop and talk to me! Do not walk away from me, Edward! I will keep following, you know I will!"

He stopped so suddenly I almost ran into him. I shook my head free of my curls which were hanging across my eyes, and sighed, "Edward-"

"Why did you kiss him?"

I was bewildered by his blunt statement, immediately colouring at the thought of Edward witnessing that horrible, awkward moment between Jacob and I, "W-what?" I stammered out, my voice catching.

"It is simple, Bella," he turned, and the expression on his face frightened me a little – I did not know what was wrong. "Why did you kiss him? And why are you blushing? And why did you follow me, come after me, when you were so obviously having a marvellous time with _him_?"

"Edward," I shook my head, confused, "I do not understand...I am sorry if I-"

"Why?"

"Edward..."

He interrupted again, "It is because you like him, is it not?" I did not want to answer that – I was not sure of anything to do with Jacob anymore. "Well?" I shrank back as he advanced on me.

"I suppose...I do like Jacob. He is my friend," I said carefully, ambiguously – his smile was positively satirical.

He chuckled, his laugh humourless and somewhat unkind – cold. "You kissed him, so therefore, you must be in love with him, no? Tall, strong, mysterious as he is – you must love him. You are only a girl, after all. I suppose you all swoon after him."

"Edward!" I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did know that he was insulting me, "Do not talk about Jacob or I that way!" My temper flared, "You are being unreasonable! So I kissed Jacob...what is wrong with that? It is what people who like each other do!"

"You like me, and you are not kissing me!"

"Should I be?" I asked, confused. "I seriously doubt that I like you at the moment," I growled when he didn't answer, "Edward, what is the matter with you? What is wrong, I cannot understand! You are angry at me."

"I do not like Jacob," he answered stiffly.

I bristled. "Well, I do," I said, for some reason neglecting to mention how much I had found I did not – Edward's accusing tone had me on edge, and on the defensive.

"Does my judgement mean nothing to you?" he said abruptly, crossing his arms, "Will you not take my feelings into consideration?"

I stared at him, bewildered at his change of tack, then I threw up my hands in exasperation, "You are insane!"

"I do not want you with him! I cannot allow it, Bella!"

"There is nothing wrong with him!"

"Jacob is a..." he sniffed angrily, "I will not allow you to be with him if you insist on kissing him, Bella!"

"You will not _allow_ it?!" I repeated, indignant only because of what he was saying, and I was hardly able to believe what he was saying; he nodded.

"I will not allow it. I shall tell your Father."

"You would not!" I cried, shocked; I could not believe what I was hearing – from my best friend, of all people. What had happened? Where had my Edward gone? Why was he acting this way? It was beyond my comprehension.

"I would. So you should listen to me, Bella!" his voice began to rise, and my temper flared again.

"My name is Isabella!" I found myself suddenly shrieking at him, rage building up inside me, my hands balling into fists as we both glared at each other. "Do you hear me, Edward? Isabella! How dare you?!"

"How dare I what?" he shouted back, fury sparking in his eyes as such as I had never seen before.

"How dare you try to tell me who I can and cannot see! There's nothing wrong with Jacob, nothing at all!" I threw my arm behind me, pointing back towards the house, where I knew Jacob was waiting for me – as I expected, it did not make me more willing to simply leave Edward here. In fact, I simply felt more inclined to stay and argue.

"There is!"

"What, pray tell?" I spat sarcastically, unsure whether I had ever been this angry in my life. Somehow, I did not think this was about Jacob anymore.

I did not think I'd seen him this angry in my life either, "He isn't good enough for you, _Isabella_!" He pushed a hand through his hair, breathing hard, "He's...he is..." he growled, glaring down at me – we were almost nose to nose, "You deserve someone better! He is not good for you! There is certainly someone better than him you could have!"

"How would you know?! In fact, you know what?" I yelled, close to breaking point, "I do not care. I will still be seeing him again tonight, no matter what you say, Edward!" In truth, I did not even want to see Jacob at all, but right then I did not care that Edward was my best friend, I did not care that Jacob was inconsequential to me compared to him; all I could feel was anger.

"Jacob Black is bad for you!"

"You are not my father!"

"I wish I were!"

I shrieked in pure, unadulterated fury – someone could have easily heard me as even the stars seemed to shudder, but I did not care. Suddenly I found myself screaming, "I do not care what you think, so do not you ever speak to me again, Edward! You are just a son of a gardener, Edward: you mean nothing to me, nothing at all!"

As soon as the irate words were out of my mouth I regretted them. Edward's anger seemed to drop straight out of his face, his angry slash of a mouth turning down at the corners, his eyes becoming expressionless. There was a deadened silence between us, and the wind blew softly, ruffling us both, my skirts and his coat fluttering but neither of us moving an inch.

Oh god.

What had I just said?

"Edward..." I finally whispered, intending to take back all that I'd said, wanting to tell him how much he really meant, that I'd been lying, that I did not mean any of it, but he stopped me.

"Alright, Bella. I will leave, if I really do mean nothing."

"You do not, Edward, you do not...please, Edward!" I stammered out, but he had turned and began to walk away from me; I stood still in dismay for a minute, horribly aware of what I had just done, before gathering my senses and rushing after him. "Edward, please, stop!" I called desperately, running as fast as I could, "I am sorry, Edward!" Somehow, I managed to gain on him; I caught his wrist and pulled with all my might, trying to stop him, "No, please, I am sorry! I did not mean it! Edward, please, stop! Please, do not just leave!"

All of a sudden he turned round again, his expression fierce, and before I knew what was happening, he had taken hold of the tops of my arms, pulling me forward, and kissed me.

My arms dropped to my sides in surprise, but Edward did not let me go, his grip on me tightening as he kissed me harder – it was like nothing I'd ever known. When Jacob had kissed me, just a few minutes ago, it had been foreign and strange, uncomfortable and awkward. This was heaven; Edward was soft, yet firm, fierce yet incredibly gentle. I was too surprised to do anything except feel; I was aware of myself just standing there, and, suddenly, I found myself responding, my lips beginning to move back against his, my fingers creeping up to his shoulders, holding onto him. Much unlike Jacob: all I wanted was to never let him go. He held me ever tighter, his hands leaving the tops of my arms, one going to my hair and the other wrapping around my waist, both holding me to him. I was lost in him – he was all I saw and felt and heard; he had become my entire world. Then Edward let me go, tearing our mouths apart so that the cold winter air rushed in, burning my lips.

The ferocity was gone; his eyes looked dead as they stared into mine.

"There," he whispered, "Can your damn Jacob Black do that?"

"Edward..." I choked out, trembling, my whole body tingling, my breath catching, "What...why...?"

He swallowed, "I am not sorry, Isabella," he said, suddenly formal, "I wish I could say sorry for that, but I cannot. I will not say sorry."

I just gazed at him, my mouth slightly open, unable to do or say a thing. I knew he was waiting for some sort of response, but I could not give him one.

I was stunned by what had just occurred.

"I will go," he said stiffly, "I will leave. You do not have to see me again, Isabella. You can go. Jacob will be waiting for you."

"No!"

A strangled cry suddenly tore from my throat as Edward turned to leave; I leapt at him wildly, feelings rushing around inside me that I could not even attempt to take stock of. I did not want him to go. I did not want to lose him, especially because of what had just taken place. What Edward had just...done.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, embracing him as tight as I could, my voice muffled in his thick coat as I whispered, "Edward, do not, please. Do not leave. Do not...do not call me that."

His arms came around me again, hugging me to him – I loved how they felt against my back, warming me deep down – and he pressed one hand into my hair, holding my head against him; holding all of me against him. His warmth was comforting, and I could feel the beating of his heart; a slow, steady ticking, gently thumping underneath his skin.

As soon as I heard that heartbeat, I knew: I loved him.

More than anything else in this world: I loved Edward Masen.

I had known before. Before this whole Jacob business drove a wedge between us; before that knowledge became lost behind what I thought I wanted...what I thought I needed.

I was in love with my eighteen-year-old best friend. And I had been since I was thirteen years old. It was certainly a revelation. An answer to why I had been thinking this way about him. An answer to the guilt, the dreams, the tears and the _heat_...

I breathed in slowly, tasting the feeling of being in Edward's arms; it felt as if I could stay here forever, protected and safe, his warmth all around me. After a while, the moment dwindled and died, and Edward took a step back, his hands retreating to settle at my waist. His green eyes caught mine, and we stared at each other for a second, the atmosphere around us tingling, shocking my skin, then, slowly, carefully, he bent and kissed me again, softer and slower. I breathed him in, my arms instinctively going to his neck, leaning back slightly as he bent forward, holding me steady with two firm hands pressed against my back.

I was in love with him. I, Isabella Swan, was in love with _him. _Gentle, loving, wonderful, magnificent _him_.

And he loved me...that was what all those cold silences and disapproving looks and that sadness he had carried round with him for months had meant. That was what he'd been trying to tell me.

That was what this meant.

I was the one who broke the kiss, tilting my head back even though he was supporting me completely now, staring up at him with reverence and still slight shock.

I was in love with him.

I continued repeating it to myself, trying to make it seem real instead of an insane dream. Edward's expression was unfathomable as he gazed down at me, then he suddenly smiled, his eyes lighting up, his lips twisted into that crooked grin that I knew I loved. I let out the breath I did not know I had been holding and smiled too.

"So."

"So," I sighed, not sure how to carry on; the word had an air of finality.

"Now you know."

His gaze was unsure and vulnerable, as if he did not know how I would react. I sighed again and wrapped my arms back around him, pressing myself back against him. I felt his chest move gently as he breathed in and out, holding me tightly. "Oh, Edward," I whispered, the words sounding like a simple rush of air, I said them so quietly.

"I love you," he murmured very softly; the words hit me, travelling through my chest and into my heart, making it pound ever faster and stronger, a wonderful tingling spreading through me. I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

"I love you too, Edward. You mean everything," my words, said without a moment's hesitation, faltered as his lips pressed against the skin of my forehead, "To...me." I trembled, the heat intensifying; I was unused to such fervour, and it made me shudder. I had leapt, and, surprisingly, the landing was easy and breathlessly wonderful.

"Bella..." he breathed, heating my skin further, "You...love me?"

I gazed up at him – his wondrous green eyes, lustrous bronze hair...the perfect slant of his jaw – and replied, against the whooshing in my ears and the pulsing in my body, "I do. With all my heart."

*

"How can this be real?" Edward asked later, whilst we were lying in the flowers of our meadow, his arms around me and my head on my chest, my shawl draped over us both – I was in total disregard for my delicate dress, even though the grass was slightly damp and the ground was soft and dewy. I could not have cared less, because of the way Edward was holding me.

"How can what be real?" I replied softly, lifting my head to look at him; he kept his head back, eyes on the starry sky.

"This. This love. You...returning my affections. It is more than I ever dreamed could be."

I sighed, my gaze never moving from his face, "I know. It is...extraordinary."

"Hmm," he turned to look at me, his hand catching mine from its place on his chest, playing with my fingers as he smiled, "Extraordinary. Yes...that is the perfect word. Extraordinary." He laughed, throwing his head back, "Extraordinary! Yes, that's what I feel!"

"Shush, Edward," I giggled, his happiness mirroring mine – he was totally open, his emotions shining through, responding to me as he hadn't in a year; all that awkwardness and anger had completely gone, leaving only us together, as we were always meant to be, "Shush...someone will hear us."

"Why should I care?" he replied, his voice joyous, "Why should I? You love me...against all of the men of Derbyshire who might have vied for your hand, you chose me to love, over all the rest. I never believed it could be so, but it is." He looked at me again, his eyes shining, "And now I have you here, in my arms," he traced my jaw with his fingers, "And you are mine. All mine...every single one of your smiles, and your laughter, and your kisses: they all belong to me."

"There is no one I would rather give them to," I smiled in return.

"And all of me belongs to you," he carried on, "Everything that I have to give is yours. And I willingly give it, because there is no one else in this world to whom I would want to belong but you. I am yours."

I sat up and took his face in my hands, kissing him as he lay back in the grass, "And I am overjoyed to have you."

He smiled, pulling me back down to him, cradling me against his chest. There was silence for a while, then he murmured absently, "I thought I had lost you then."

"When?" I asked, my head against his chest, glancing up at him; he looked at me and smiled gently.

"When I saw you with him," he sighed, "I truly thought I had lost you – all this time I had been hoping Jacob would eventually disappear, then I saw you with him...it was why I stormed away, and why I got so angry. I truly thought you were gone." He pushed a lock of hair back from my forehead with one finger, "It hurt much more than I thought it would."

"It hurt?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"It was a rough few years, you know, waiting for you."

"Few years?" I asked, surprised at his sudden comment, "Waiting for me?"

He settled back in the grass, looking up at the sky abruptly. He was silent for a few minutes, and I was about to repeat my query when he spoke. "Do you remember, Bella, your thirteenth birthday?"

"How could I not?" I replied, smiling to myself, "You played the piano for me, and you made me dance."

He glanced down at me, shooting me a smile before shifting his head back again, talking to the night sky, "Do you remember when you asked who that piece I played was for, and I answered that it was for someone whom I cared about deeply?"

I nodded, "I remember."

He looked at me properly then, his luminescent green eyes fixing on mine, "It was for you, Bella. That composition was a fifteen-year-old boy's attempt to take stock of the feelings he had inside, by writing them down on paper, for a thirteen-year-old girl whom he had suddenly realised was the most beautiful person in his world. It was my expression of love for you, something I only realised once I had finished it." As I gazed at him, speechless, he carried on, "You also told me it was sad – that was the feeling that ran along with the love: the knowledge of the world that I had.

"Because, Bella: then I believed that, however much I loved you, however much I wished I could tell you, it would never work. What was I compared to you? We were best friends, but, as you realised later, you moved in circles I could only dream of moving in. You were – are – the daughter of Lord and Lady, and what am I? I am a lowly servant: part of the working class. I was slowly being pulled away from you, little by little, by all those rules that deem you superior to me. I thought to myself: I would never be allowed to love her. Society would not allow it. I would never be allowed to be near you if you did not hold me in such high esteem already.

"I also thought: how could a beautiful girl like her love me? It seemed incomprehensible." He sighed, "Of course, it all seems inconsequential now, with you here in my arms, but still...I thought I was doomed to a life of loving from afar – as I grew, the feelings grew with me. A year ago I reached the point where it hurt to have you away from me, and it hurt even more to see you with other men, who I could see wanted you, much as I wished they would not. I knew you were finally drifting away from me, and I also knew that I would never stop loving you. I was too far gone. I pretended nothing was wrong, but all the while a sort of...monster was raging inside me, telling me to rip every man who touched you apart, telling me to...to...claim you as my own, no matter what anyone else thought. Of course, I was under the impression that you would never love me...so I just waited. Being whatever you wanted me to be, silently hoping that, one day, maybe...you might just...love me too."

I was stunned.

I simply lay there, in his warm, comfortable arms, staring at him, unable to form a sentence that expressed my wonder and surprise at his words. Unable to comprehend how much he seemed to love me.

It was simply unreal.

"But none of that matters now," Edward said, interrupting my silence, finally fixing his gaze properly on me, "Because you do love me. Because, finally, I do not have to love from afar anymore – I can love you completely and ultimately...I can give all of myself and know that I shall be given something in return. You chose me," he rolled suddenly and kissed me softly, "And I could not be more thankful that you did."

"Edward, I..." I sighed, lost for words, then moved forward and kissed him slowly, whispering against his lips, "I am thankful for you as well...I promise that I shall try as hard as I can to love you as much as you deserve...you have waited so long for me."

"Bella, you do not have to try at all," he replied, "You have already given me everything I will ever want."

"But still," I murmured, even as he pulled me a little closer to him, his kisses short and incredibly sweet, "I feel as if I have just stumbled into this...this...glorious world of love without even having to try or suffer as you have. I feel as if I have cheated my way through the game and, absurdly, won."

He chuckled, "Oh, Bella, _you_ are absurd...if I had only had the courage to tell you sooner, maybe I would not have had to suffer. Maybe if I was a different person, I would not have had to suffer. But, either way, I completely accept all that suffering, just because of where I am now." He lightly kissed the tip of my nose, smiling in the moonlight, "And because of where you are now. The long years of waiting have led me here, and I will never regret them because of it."

I could not help but smile back, invigorated by his elated mood, his continuous smile and sparkling eyes. I felt as if I were floating on air – as if I had no care in the world...in that moment, I could not see anything wrong with the world. Edward loved me, and I loved him – I had finally found what I had been looking for all along.

As I gazed at him – his wonderful face and warm smile, his eyes filled with love for me – I was moved by a sudden rush of feeling of answering love for him.

"I love you, Edward," I whispered, reaching up to touch him, to flatten my palm against his cheek, "I know that now. I love you so much."

"Ah, Bella," he replied, placing his hand over mine, whispering back to me, "There is no possible way that I could not love you too."

The look in his eyes was enough for me to melt into him as he leant down to kiss me – I, filled with the joy his touch ensued in me, the emotion pulsing through my veins, threw my arms around him, kissing him back with as much enthusiasm as he. His kisses were like new gowns to my little sister Alice: exciting and unfamiliar, and so incredibly wonderful that I wished I could have them all the time. The feel of his lips against mine roused a reaction in me that was exhilarating – the rush of blood in me and the vigorous pulsing of my heart thrilled me, as did the feel of him; his hands in my hair, against my back, lightly tripping down my spine, made me shiver in pure delight.

After a while we both became breathless, and he released me, only to press me against his chest, breathing raggedly into my hair. I happily settled into his embrace, breathing in the scent of him – he smelled of freshly cut grass, and lemons...and flowers.

We lay there together in perfect silence – I found myself completely content – and, slowly, my eyes began to close. I nestled into him a little more, resting my head on his shoulder, letting myself slip into sleep, without any thought for the fact that I was outside in the grass, under the open sky – I was with Edward. And, as of now...that was all I needed.

"Bella?" he whispered, just as I was drifting away.

"Yes?"

"I am sorry I shouted at you."

I smiled gently without opening my eyes, knowing he was watching me, "I love you too."

*

I like to walk.

Especially nowadays, since my health is failing, and I am finding it more and more difficult to move as my limbs slowly begin to falter, becoming stiffer and stiffer by each morning that comes and goes.

I know I may not be able to appreciate the beauty of life for much longer. I may not be around for too much longer. I can feel death slowly seeping into me – I cannot be that far off.

It saddens me. Of course it does. How could it not? I will be leaving my wife, and my two beautiful children behind. I know what will happen to them – my brother, Marcus, will swoop in. Claim my daughters as his own – they are both stunning girls...many men will want for them, as they will not for his daughter. He will be able to make two very good connective marriages with my children.

And my wife...I shall have to see to it she is well looked after.

I sigh as I make my way up the rolling hill, leading up to the field of blue forget-me-nots where Bella and her friend Edward love to spend their time together. The sun is only just rising, and I bask in its warm glow as I carry on trudging, wondering if I will be able to make it all the way up today without having to stop.

I have managed it so far – but the decline is steady and I am waiting for the day when I cannot do it anymore. Dreading it, but waiting patiently. It is the only thing a sick man such as myself can do.

After a few more unhindered minutes, I reach the top. I take in my surroundings – the whole of Derbyshire is lain out before me, like a tiny map. The small village of Wirksworth, sleeping, nestled in the middle of the valley. Then the rolling, sweeping hills, dipping and sliding and toppling under the near-white sky, which extends above and beyond the deep green fields, all lined with bushy green trees, dotting across the landscape like tiny nesting birds, swaying in the light breeze that plays across the land before me.

It is truly a beautiful sight.

I find my eyes cannot take it all in at once, so I stand there, for an immeasurable length of time – it passes me by, unnoticed, and soon I find that the sun has risen above the horizon, slowly gaining in strength as it ascends into the sky, touching the earth with soft rays of light.

I look down as it plays across my feet, and suddenly realise I am not alone.

With a jolt of shock I find two figures laying in the flowers, wrapped in each other's arms, deeply asleep, matching expressions of total and complete contentment set on both their faces.

I find I know those faces.

One belongs to my beloved eldest daughter, Bella...and the man to whom the pair of arms wrapped so tightly around my child belong is none other than Edward Masen. The boy she has known since childhood. She is lying, in his arms, and he is holding her against his chest as carefully as if she were a china doll, but as tightly as if she would float away in the wind without him.

My heart tightens at the fierce look of protection on the boy's face, even in sleep, and I know what has finally happened.

Edward and Bella.

Suddenly, as I watch them – they remind me of a certain couple who existed not so long ago – I realise there is a tiny glimmer of hope now.

Bella is in love.

Maybe, now, she is safe. Maybe Edward will save her, after I leave them all behind.

I have always considered Edward to be my son. Much as Renee loathed to admit – we knew this day would come. Edward and Bella, Romeo and Juliet...Charlie and Renee...their names fit together like puzzle pieces.

Meant to be: and who are we to fight destiny?

I turn away, leaving them to each other, intending to return to my wife – who knows how much time I have left with her? My destiny...they all knew not to fight us, in the end.

We were meant to be.

The landscape fades before my eyes as I head back down the hill.

* * *

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	12. Promises, Promises

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**Haha, well Edward and Bella are together now, so we've passed that milestone...and thank god, the angst was killing me. Looking forward to the fluff, my lovely ones! Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing - you make my fanfiction life a great deal more enjoyable! Keep reviewing and I hope you enjoy this chapter, made specially for you. **

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* * *

**

When I woke in the morning, dreams of Edward were yet again slowly drifting through my tired consciousness – I could see his face, but nothing of what we had been doing; as soon as my mind registered exactly what had happened the night before, I shot upright at once. I was surprised to find myself lying in bed, the sheets twisted around me, my cold feet bared to the open air; I drew them in, shivering, then glanced around me, wondering what on earth was going on.

As far as I could remember, slightly embarrassing though it was – I could feel myself reddening even without his presence – I had fallen asleep in my best friend's arms. That was after both of us had confessed our love and spent most of the night lying together in the grass talking and feeling dizzy with happiness at the brilliance of it all.

And so, I was left in a slight state of confusion. If I had fallen asleep outside, Edward's arms so warm and tight around me that I felt he would never let me go...what was I doing here?

I had two options – go back to sleep and assume it was all a dream or...find him.

I went with the latter.

I dressed myself quickly in a light cotton dress and pulled my dressing gown over it to keep me warm, before tugging a brush through my hair and pinning it up so it hung neatly down my bag, curving across my ears – still a few rogue strands hung down my forehead, but I pushed them away and opened the door, slipping quietly through it.

The house was asleep, as I had expected it to be – Father was never strong enough to leave his room until mid-morning, if ever, and Mama would be with him. Alice had been awake until the early hours of the morning, as she had been at a birthday celebration of a friend of hers. And since they were all asleep, it could easily be inferred that everyone else who lived here was too. Except Edward, of course: he and I were the only early risers, and I knew that if I were awake, he would be too. The only problem was that of finding him, because he could be absolutely anywhere.

The windows were frosted through, so I assumed he would not be outside as it was obvious the weather had turned for the colder. I quickly glanced down towards the open library doors as I passed them before moving on, seeing that it was empty. It was the same for the dining room, as well as the living room, the reception room...the hall was empty too. It took me a few more minutes of searching before I approached the east wing of the house and realised that I could hear the faint sound of music gently drifting through the corridors. I almost slapped myself on the head – why I had not thought of it before? Of course he would be in the living room where the piano was. This part of the house was practically Edward's domain, from the amount of time he spent composing in there; sometimes, even I was not allowed to disturb him.

The door was ajar, and I could not bring myself to open it, far too shy and uncertain. So instead I stood there, pressed against the wall, staring through the gap to see him there, obviously completely absorbed in his music. My heart began to beat stronger as I remembered what had happened the night before, and whether in my dreams or in reality, it was enough to make me flush. I could not know what had happened, but as I watched him it seemed he had grown even more handsome than he had been before, if it were possible. His green eyes were shining, face alight with his smile, the rising sun casting a ray of light across his face that highlighted the perfect slant of his jaw, that glanced off his bronze hair, making it seem almost angelically golden.

It took me yet another minute of staring absently at him to realise what he was playing – that song I had only heard once before. It was the song he had played for me, so long ago, back when I was so ignorant in his feelings for me. If, of course, I had not dreamed that too.

The beauty of the music, still, had me standing there perfectly motionless, simply listening. I could not bring myself to interrupt it, as suddenly impatient to do so as I was. I leant against the door, feeling an insatiable pull to him, knowing I could be happy even standing next to him. And so I stood there, listening – when the end came I was not expecting it, and it left me with a strange sense of emptiness. Edward sighed and sat back, still smiling gently; he ran his hands over his face and through his hair – I remembered suddenly how it had felt in my fingers too, and my heart thumped so loudly I could not believe he hadn't heard it. The door creaked gently as I moved, and I blushed scarlet as he heard it, turning to look straight at me. I knew he knew I had been watching him.

He tilted his head, looking amused. "Hello, you," he said, not standing up but chuckling gently, "What are you doing, hiding behind there?"

I had no real answer. "Erm..." I stuttered, "Listening?"

"I see." The silence stretched between us, before he raised a brow at me, "Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in?"

I almost had to force myself inside, feeling unthinkingly shy in his presence – I tapped my foot against the ground, wondering what to say; one more smile had me almost dashing to his side, sitting down beside him, almost in a sort of frenzy. Once I got there, I was lost for anything else to do, so I began to tap random keys on the instrument in front of us both, strange, unconnected notes sounding in the air. "So..." I started, using my first three fingers to tap out a simple tune – one hit a wrong note, and Edward reached out, his skin shocking mine as he moved it to the right one; I gasped a little, and he chuckled.

"So."

It all came back in a flurry of remembered emotion, that echo of those words – I remembered saying them yesterday, and I remembered him kissing me afterwards; it was all so clear I could not make myself believe it was all a dream. My next words came out in a rush, as if my mind wanted them out quickly. "It all happened, then?" I asked breathlessly, finding courage enough to fix my eyes on his – he stared at me for a second, a smile playing across his lips but his eyes on fire, as if he were remembering it all too.

"Yes," he said finally, reaching out again, clasping my fingers in his, pulling them away from the piano and wrapping them in his warmth, "It really did."

Even I could not have anticipated my reaction – I took a great sigh of absolute relief, warmth spreading through me that I later realised was absolute joy. "Thank god," I murmured, my heart almost singing, smiling widely at him, "I was going to go completely insane if it hadn't."

Once those words were out, the tension between us seemed to break, and Edward's laugh rang clear and strong throughout the room, filling me up until I felt as light as if I were full of hot air. "Thank god?" he repeated, his arms winding around me now, pulling me close to him on the stool, "I take you are happy it did, then?"

"Oh yes," I said at once, smiling at him, completely happy there in the circle of his arms, "So much so that it could hardly be possible."

His smile grew, "Me too."

I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder, comfortable enough to sit there all day without moving – and, besides: I did have all day. It did not have to be said that I intended to spend it all, and many more, with him. An innate sense of calm had settled over me, so much so that it felt almost foreign to me; I took a deep breath, tasting the air, attempting to unravel the change. Understanding came to me quickly when Edward whispered, the words drifting straight into my heart: "I love you."

Those words suddenly, inexplicably, meant more to me than anything else ever could – I knew I was young, but I knew that there would never be a time again when I could live without them. It was me who had been changed: inexplicably, permanently...but it was so wonderful.

Eventually, after long moments of daydreaming together, a thought bubbled to the surface of my peaceful mind, "Edward," I mumbled gently, sitting up slightly – I had been leaning on him for so long, the air that breezed gently through the crack between the window and the sill made my skin rough and pebbled; I shivered a little at the sensation, warm as I was. Edward lifted his head too, smiling down at me.

"Yes?"

"I woke up in my bedroom this morning," I answered leisurely, "Was that...?"

He chuckled, "Yes, that was me," he said. "Dawn came earlier today...it woke you up too, you know. It was cold, so we began to walk back to the house, then you literally fell asleep against me," I blushed as he laughed, louder this time, "I carried you in, and you looked so peaceful...I could not bear to wake you, so I left."

"A pity," I whispered, shyly smiling at him, "I would have liked you to be there when I woke up."

"Would you?" his gaze was serious, penetrating – I glanced down, my face reddening as I mumbled my reply.

"Yes."

"Bella!" Both of us started, and it was only Edward's hand at my waist that kept me from jumping straight onto the floor – he quickly withdrew his touch as Mama appeared in the doorway, "Bella?" I attempted to look as innocent as possible, acutely aware of his presence behind me as she smiled gently, "Bella, dear, the Blacks are leaving – Alice has already said goodbye, and I thought you might want to...?" She did not have to say that she thought I wanted to say farewell to Jacob on my own, and I bit my lip, unable to help myself as I glanced up at Edward before back to my mother.

How exactly was I going to tell her that the fairytale wedding she quite obviously had planned for us was not going to happen?

"Bella?"

I shook my head, abruptly standing – I did want to say goodbye to Jacob, no matter whether it was a different one from what my mother had in mind. I still had to apologise for leaving him last night. "Yes, Mama," I said, nodding to her, "I will go down in a minute."

She brightened, "Good girl." She left, and I waited until I could not hear her footsteps any longer before turning round, moving back to Edward – I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind and sighed, resting my head atop his.

"What am I going to tell him?" I mused sadly; he was playing with my fingers, and I felt him shrug.

"The truth."

"Yes," I sighed again, brushing my cheek against his hair as I turned my head, leaning on his shoulders as I pushed myself into a standing position again, "Yes, you are right. The truth." I rolled my shoulders twice, pushing my hair back over my shoulders, attempting to feel purposeful, "I am certain I can do that."

Edward smiled, "You should go and get dressed properly, then."

"Oh," I looked down, noticing I was wearing no shoes and a dressing gown, "Oh, yes, of course." I blushed as he chuckled, tilting his head.

"As beautiful as you look this morning, I think your guests may find it a little inappropriate, do you not think?"

"Oh, be quiet," I hurried to the door, smiling at him as I twisted through it, disappearing into the hall. I ran straight to my room, quickly pinning up my hair properly before pulling a more suitable dress on, whipping my coat about my shoulders and hurrying back out again. I was determined to have this talk with Jacob over and done with – not just for my own peace of mind, but for his also. I could not bear to hurt him any longer: Jacob was my friend, and I loved him as much as I would any other good friend, but he had to know that was all he could ever be. Though, I could not imagine he had not guessed from how I had deserted him last night.

I caught Jacob halfway into his carriage – I called out, afraid I would not draw his attention otherwise. "Jacob!" He turned, his face darkening; I slowed to a stop in front of him, immediately lost for anything to say. That seemed to be occurring a lot today. "Jacob..." I said again, swallowing, groping the deepest regions of my mind for words, any words, "Jacob...good morning." It seemed all I could think of was small talk. I sighed in my mind as he raised a cynical brow.

"Good morning, Miss Bella...I did not see you come back last night, but I assume you...?"

"Oh, yes," I gabbled nervously, my hand mysteriously waving ambiguously in the air, "Edward, he..." Jacob looked down at his feet, and my arm fell limp at my side as I trailed off, the words losing form, turning to dust in the air, "He...saw me home..." I tried again, "Mama, she..." I sighed, "Jacob, I..."

"So," he murmured, "It is not me."

I dropped my pretences, gazing at him, knowing the pain I was causing him and hating myself for it, "I am truly sorry, Jacob. I...I did not – I do not – want to hurt you."

He sighed gently, nodding slowly – I stood there in front of him, twisting my fingers together and biting my lip, watching his face, searching for any signs of emotion; but there was nothing. His face was impassive as he stood still, his head bowed, features betraying no reaction. I wanted to reach out and take his clasped hands, but I knew I could not, as that would only cause him further pain. I had kept him from the world long enough. I had been selfish, and ignorant, and many things worse than that, and I had hurt him enough. I had no business being familiar with him: he was not mine, nor would he ever be, nor had I ever wanted him to be.

"It is him." Jacob's deep, gentle voice startled me a little – his tone was so soft, so unaccusing, so...understanding, "Isn't it?"

"Jacob," I replied, lost for words, unsure of what he would do if I told him the truth, frightened and guilty at the same time. "I...I could not..." I stammered, unable to make myself tell him the truth even though he deserved to hear it, but he interrupted me.

"It is alright, Bella," he said gently, "I will not tell anyone about you and him." It was he who took my hands then, "I promise." I sighed, exhaling gently before throwing my arms around him and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Jacob," I whispered, "You truly are a great friend."

He laughed gently, pressing his face into my hair, "I know." Then he moved away, stepping up onto the carriage, swinging on the door handle, his familiar smile on his face, "You will miss me, you know," he grinned, winking an eye at me – I laughed.

"I am sure I will."

Edward came up to me, slipping a gentle hand to my waist as I waved the carriage off, both of us standing together until it disappeared from sight. I stayed still, staring at the clouds of dust drifting up from the road, watching them twist and dance in the wind – Edward laughed gently in my ear. "I cannot say I am sad that he is gone," he murmured; I turned round then, smiling ruefully at him.

"You are ridiculous. The worst actor I have ever known."

He shrugged, his smile carefree and teasing – his eyes sparkled as he winked one eye at me, "I suppose I can live with that."

"You are going to have to," I quipped in return, before stepping up on my toes to kiss him on the cheek; I pressed my lips to his skin, eliciting a rare blush from him. I giggled lightly, happiness nearly making me giddy as he drew me closer, kissing me on the cheek in return.

"I love you," he said, grinning down at me, and I smiled.

My blissful happiness was, by any standards, supremely short-lived. I spent a week or so living in absolute joy with Edward: long days spent with him by the lake or in our field of blue flowers, walking through the outside world hand-in-hand with him – my previous confidence with him did not resurface, and Edward found it amusing how even the grasp of his fingers made me flush red at once. As soon as the night was over, I became myself again: shy, unsure, and easily embarrassed. I would never call it fear...just a continuous need to touch him yet a ridiculous embarrassment in doing so.

Edward simply found it comical and made up for it by slipping an arm around me when I was not looking; he would walk up beside me when he saw me in the halls and either lace his fingers through mine for a second if I had somewhere to go or, more often, pull me away from ambling through my home with no real purpose to do something he usually felt was more constructive. By that, he meant spending time with him. My confidence grew as the days went on, until I could easily reach for his hand myself, or steal kisses from him when he wasn't looking – time grew slow, after the Blacks left and it was just Alice, Jasper, Edward and me again. With a lack of anything else to do, I spent more time than ever with him: and I did love it.

That day was a Sunday and, after the regular morning mass, Edward and I had slipped away – there was no reason for anyone to be suspicious, but Father was ill and Mama insisted all of us should be with him so he would not feel alone. All the same, there was only so much of watching Papa grow weaker and weaker that I could take, so after kissing him goodbye and promising for only his ears that I would be back to see him before afternoon tea, Edward and I set off away from his room, our hands swinging gently between us, intertwined. Edward had already mentioned the state of the weather, and one look at the solid sheets of rain told me that there would be no excursions for us today. So, instead, we headed toward the library.

"What book shall it be today, my love?" Edward asked absently, browsing the bookshelves beneath me – I was standing on the fifth rung of the ladder, running the tips of my fingers along the dusty bindings, attempting to pick one I had never read before; from this particular bookshelf, the fiction shelf, this was a hard task. I blushed secretly to myself at his name for me, knowing how much he loved using it, before glancing down to smile at him as a sort of reward.

"I could not tell you, dearest," I teased gently – he laughed as I swung back onto the ladder, gripping the rung above me – I bit the tip of my tongue, running my eyes across the lines of books again, "I seem to have read all of them..."

"A personal favourite, then?"

"No..." I slipped my feet off the wooden supports and slid down the ladder, laughing as Edward caught me, "Thank you." I sighed and settled against him, crossing my arms as he wrapped his around me and rested his head on my shoulder, "I could not choose just one."

"What a pity," Edward sighed, chuckling lightly in my ear, "So indecisive..."

I laughed too – this was always where it ended, "Why do we not simply pick a letter and read that encyclopaedia, then?"

"Are we not still on the letter B?" he said.

I shrugged, "There is still half the thing to go."

"Encyclopaedia it is then."

Around an hour later, though I could not have been sure due to the fact that the light outside was quickly fading and my sense of time had always been awful, Edward and I were curled up together, the encyclopaedia unopened at our feet. He was sitting in the only chair, I was on his lap, curled up, my feet on his knees and my head in a book whilst his was against the chair back, his eyes closed. I was resting against his chest, and I looked him, smiling a little before snapping the book shut, halfway through a chapter. "Edward?" I murmured, putting a hand to his cheek, "Edward, I'm done."

He started awake, a smile on his face before he even opened his eyes. "You are?" he said, stretching as much as he could with me on his lap, "I could have sworn you had only just begun."

"You fell asleep," I laughed, sliding off his lap so he could stand – he did so, raising his arms above his head and following me as I set off to put the book back in its proper place. The sun was setting as I passed the window, and I glanced out, noticing that the sky was growing darker by the minute – I bit my lip. "Oh no," I muttered, pushing the book back into the shelf before turning to Edward, "I am late for Papa: I said I would go back and visit him before afternoon tea, and..." I gestured limply toward the sky, "Well, I would have thought it was obvious."

Edward laughed, one foot kicked up against the shelves, looking the picture of relaxation. "Go," he said, throwing his head toward the doors, "I will see you later."

"Are you sure?" I asked, even though I knew it was ridiculous to feel torn between him and Papa – I knew Edward understood completely, and there was no reason for him to feel upset, but I could not help myself. Being in love, it seemed, made you completely ridiculous. Of course, I had already known that. Edward rolled his eyes at me.

"Of course I am sure, you numbskull – do you think I would run away? Besides," he smiled at me, "I have spent a great deal of the day with you anyway, and it is only fair that your Father should have you now. Get on," he shooed me away, "And you give him my good wishes." I turned to leave, but his sudden hand on my arm stopped me – without even moving, it seemed, he was there behind me, his smile warm and crooked. "Though," he murmured, his eyes almost melting – I felt as if I were swimming in them as he drew me closer, "I would not give him this." He kissed me then, ever so slightly and gently, just a slight rubbing of his mouth against mine; I sighed as he pulled away, smiling dreamily up at him.

"I love you."

*

"I know about you and Edward, petal."

I almost fainted right there and then in shock – I braced myself against the headboard, feeling suddenly unsteady, my heart beginning to thump nervously in my chest. Sweat beaded at my collar as I stared at my Papa, his eyes so serious I knew there was no way I could fool him...but still I tried. "Wha...what?" I asked, my voice strangely high, "Papa..." I laughed then, attempting to wave his statement off, "Papa, what on earth-"

"What have I always told you," Papa interrupted, his voice gentle yet stern, powerful as it always had been despite his tired appearance, "About lying to me?" His dark, serious eyes held me still, daring me to contradict him – I gulped, suddenly speechless, unable to think of anything to say to him apart from one thing.

I looked down at my feet, feeling ashamed. "I am sorry, Papa," I whispered – he knew I was not apologising for loving Edward. I was apologising for lying to him, which meant so much more than the latter. He smiled at me, his eyes gentling.

"I am not angry with you, Bella," he said, "Just...well," he chuckled gently, "I am not surprised but...I did not assume it would happen so soon."

"You knew?" I breathed, abruptly sitting down beside him, careful not to jolt him but desperate all the same, "You knew this would happen, Papa?"

"How could it not?" he chuckled gently, reaching out to chuck my chin, "You and Edward were always far too close, petal." I blushed, looking down at my hands as they twisted the bedsheets between my fingers – Papa sighed, "It was always obvious...at least now I know you and Alice will always have someone to look after you: it eases my worries greatly." It did not come as a surprise to me that he knew about Alice and Jasper – they were about as cautious as Edward and I were. And that was not a compliment.

"How could you be worried, Papa?" I asked, looking up at him again, smiling at him earnestly, "You have always looked after Alice and me more than well enough." My smile faded as I realised what he was saying: Papa was worried...because he thought he might not be there to look after us soon. I shook my head, desperation rising quickly in me, pushing the thought away with all my might, "No...no, Papa, no – you _will _be here, I promise you, Papa..." I glanced down again, a lump rising in my throat, "No, Papa, no..."

"You cannot promise that, Isabella," Papa said, smiling gently at me, "No one can."

"I can," I said, "I can...I will not let you."

"Isabella," he said again, his voice achingly resigned, "Isabella, you know there is nothing you can do for me now...there is only one thing you could ever do."

"What is it?" I asked, desperate to help him in away way I could, "Oh, Papa, tell me – anything, I will do anything to help you."

"Promise me, Isabella," his cold hands took mine, holding them tight between his, "Promise me that you will take care of your Mother and sister for me," he smiled wryly, "Try not to let your Mama get too upset about Edward and Jasper – it is not good for her nerves."

I had to blink away the tears in my eyes and force a smile to my features as I nodded fiercely, "Yes, Father," I promised avidly, taking his hand and holding it tightly, "Yes, Papa...of course."

"Good girl," he chuckled my chin gently, displacing the tears so they had nowhere to go but down my cheeks – he brushed them away, his smile kind and familiar and warm. "No, petal," he murmured, "No, do not cry...come now."

"I am sorry, Papa," I found I could not stop myself – once the gate had been opened, I found I could not close it. When my tears began to flow faster, and I began to cry, sorrow rising in me as I knew what was to come soon began to beat at my mind, thrashing me further and further down until there was nothing I could do but cry, he drew me closer.

"Bella..." he whispered gently, letting me curl up beside him – I hugged my Papa, pressing myself close to him, feeling how warm and comforting he still was, trying to take heart in the reassuring solidness of his body, attempting to push my fears away and believe him when he said to me, "It will be alright, petal, I promise you."

If I could, I would have cried out how I did not want him to leave, I would have told him how scared and frightened I was...how terrible I knew it would all be without him. All that knowledge left me speechless with anticipated grief, and it was all I could do to hug him and cry into his shoulder. I felt like a little child again, seeking comfort in her Father's arms, but I was not safe in the knowledge that he could make everything alright, that he could fight the raging storm, keep me safe...make all my fears go away.

Because, soothed as I felt in his embrace, as safe as I was in the knowledge that he was still with me...I could not shake the feeling that death was sitting somewhere above his shoulder – that if I glanced up, I would see him there, waiting. His body was colder, his voice quieter, the light in his eyes dimmed...he knew as well as I did that he might not survive the winter. I sobbed again as I realised: my Papa might not even live to see my seventeenth birthday.

With that realisation: my world began, yet again, to come apart at the seams.

* * *

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**Love you guys so much! ATO out xxxx**


	13. Spiralling

**Hello!!!**

**Ok, I know I know...it's been a while. Well, more than a while. Ok, I'm pretty sure I've lost most of my readers for this story but still...it's time to rebuild here, folks! I have chapters lined up, half written, and a much better idea of where I want to go. It may not be much better, but hopefully updates will be at least every two weeks now, so :D I hope whoever is still here isn't too mad at me, and thank you to those few who emailed me and told me to get a move on :D It really helped, so thank you guys xxx**

**A little bit of Edward for you, as some had asked before - it's not too long, but chapter 14 is longer and should be up fairly soon :D**

**Thank you for sticking with me, and I hope from now on I will be able to be a better writer for you all xxx Please review, it would be GREATLY appreciated :D**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

* * *

**

The slow, merciless death of Charles Swan was by no means easy to watch – Mother and Father could barely bear to stand at his bedside for more than an hour or two...it was not hard for me to imagine how they felt, watching one of their oldest friends waste away in front of them. I thought it was much like watching my Bella waste away with him.

Take last week, when she had gone missing suddenly in the middle of the day – only Alice and I had been unoccupied enough to notice. Lady Swan, heroically, might I add, spent her days and nights at Charles' bedside, never moving or straying from her position, almost a statue in her watch over him. It was enough to drive even me to tears, and Bella herself to hysteria on many separate occasions. As before, I could easily imagine how Renee felt: it was much like watching my Bella suffer with no knowledge of how to help her. It was almost unbearable to finally find her, curled up in the corner of my own room, of all places. It was physical pain that lanced through me when I saw her tearstained cheeks, salted red raw from crying – she looked just like she had when she was eight years old when she broke her Mama's favourite vase, cutting herself on the glass in the process. It had been me who had found her, bleeding but too afraid to show herself; while the cause may have been different now, she still looked exactly the same. Wounded, scared...absolutely helpless.

She was trying to be strong – I was attempting to help her remember what else there was to live for...but still she was disappearing right in front of my eyes.

Finally, when Bella's crying and general state of depression became too much for Alice's pity to handle, it was anger that took its place. I was at the piano, too troubled to compose but yet too tired to move when she burst into the room one Sunday afternoon, almost glowing red with fury. "She has disappeared again," she growled, bringing her fist down on the polished wood of the instrument – I winced at once as it whined delicately.

"Alice," I berated her gently, "Please...not the piano."

"Sorry," she almost barked, bringing her hand back to her side but clenching her fingers even tighter so her knuckles turned white, "She is just so...so..." she made a sound of exasperation, "Oh, I cannot even think of the word but she is certainly it!"

I sighed, rubbing my palms over my eyes, yawning widely – worry had begun to keep me up at night. I pushed my hands through my hair, stretching out my back and arms as I asked her, "Has something happened?"

"What has not happened?" she grumbled, crossing her arms and leaning against the piano, her body painting the perfect picture of annoyance, "What has Bella not begun howling and running off about? You would think she would have some form of self-control...Mama does not just sit there and cry. Granted, she does not do much, but still..." I did not miss the catch in poor Alice's voice – whilst she may have been the only of the Swans to hold on to normality, it was costing her a great deal. She wiped her cheek quickly, gazing down at her clasped hands, "At least she does not cry."

I had nothing to say to her – Jasper had always been the one for words, and he had gone away for the spring months. All I could do was hold her.

I let her sit beside me and cry out her sorrows on my shoulder for a while, both of us sitting there together, the world on our shoulders and no one who would share it with us. Alice bore her Mother's burdens as well as her own, and I carried Bella's. We were certainly an unhappy pair. Part of me ached to go and seek out Bella, wherever she was, knowing she was in pain – but seeing poor, tiny Alice, her small frame wracked with tears, with only me to turn to, had me thinking that maybe she did not need someone to care for her as much as Alice did. I had been told by my parents of how, when I was a newborn, they gave up coming to soothe me when I wailed, and as soon as I learned wailing would not get me what I wanted, I stopped. Bella had been continuously looked after by myself, often to no avail, whilst Alice suffered in silence...I felt no anger towards her, just sorrow for Alice. Since she had no Mother or elder sister available, I was all she had.

So I gave up my afternoon and spent it with Alice – she had accepted Charles' death, forgiven him for it, and said she thought the anticipation was worse than the actual passing would be. Instead of grieving as everyone else was, we went out swimming on the lake: there was not exactly anyone who would stop us. We sat there, gently swinging our bare feet in the cool water; Alice had her dress hitched up around her knees and was leaning back on her hands, her small shoulders raised and her eyes closed. I was just as thoughtful – conversation was not needed, absorbed as we were in our respective musings. Personally I was worrying about Bella.

There was no feasible way that I could not – how could I forget her for even a second? Even when she was happy and laughing she could capture my attention with one simple smile and leave me standing there, dumbstruck as she laughed.

"I miss the laughter," Alice suddenly said, as if she could hear my thoughts – I glanced down at her, curious, and she smiled wearily. "It is so...quiet. All of the time. Do you not feel that?"

I sighed gently, nodding at her astuteness, "Yes. As if there is no life at all."

"Surrounded by only your own thoughts," Alice added, her voice small and sad, far too wise for a girl of her young age – I could not help but feel intensely sorry for her as she murmured, almost too quietly for me to hear, "I do not like my thoughts."

I found I missed the happy Alice intensely. This Alice...she was not someone I recognised, nor someone I wanted to know. I realised Charlie's slow death was changing everyone around me, into people who were mere shadows of themselves. It was nothing short of terrible, and especially it was only Alice and I who stood any chance of making it out alive. I was determined to save her, if not anyone else.

"Alice," I smiled at her, "You have to remember you are not alone: you always have me. And besides," I ruffled her hair gently, making her laugh, "Jasper will be back soon."

"Yes," her eyes visibly brightened, "He will be."

"You have to remember that too," I urged her, "Really, Alice, you must – the future is all we have to look forward to."

"I know," she answered, sighing and gazing out over the lake, her blue eyes distant, cloudy as the thick grey sky. "There will always be a tomorrow," she murmured, before turning back to me, suddenly smiling, her eyes brighter, "Won't there?"

I smiled back at her, "Exactly."

*

The air seemed easier to breathe on our way back to the house, both walking together in companionable silence – Alice was visibly happier, the slight spring back in her step, the smile back on her face. She watched the birds above our heads and laughed, whilst I hoped that the return to normality was beginning; my hopes were raised again when there was a cry from the back door of the house, "Alice! Alice!"

It was as if someone had lit Alice on fire – I almost had to narrow my eyes at the sight of her as she broke into an ecstatic smile, "Jasper!" She turned to me, clutching at my arm for a second, the happiness on her face almost blinding me, I was so unused to it, "Edward, Jasper's back!" I watched with my heart in my throat as she threw herself into his arms. As I made my way up the stairs, smiling despite myself at their sounds of happiness, I vowed to myself that I would find some way for Bella to light up when she saw me, as she used to – to find some way that I could light up when I saw her, instead of wanting to cry.

I desperately wanted her to smile again.

After only a short while searching for her, I found Bella curled up in our chair in the library, her eyes and cheeks red but her face peaceful in sleep. I walked up to stand beside her, gazing down at her fondly, and maybe she heard me coming because her eyes snapped open at once. "Evening, love," I said to her, but she didn't answer, simply shifted slightly to indicate that I should sit down – I did so, and she shuffled onto my lap, curling up at my chest and settling down again.

She was silent for a long minute, and I had no problem waiting for her to speak. And eventually, as I knew she would, she did.

"You...you did not find me today," she rasped quietly, her voice accusing – I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gently holding her closer but thinking of Alice too, refusing to feel guilty.

"I did not," I confirmed easily, sighing and breathing her in, missing her non-grieving self almost too much, "I was with Alice."

"Alice," it was quite obvious she was not at all happy about that, from the way she held herself – proudly silent, even in her fragile state. I smiled fondly, enjoying her annoyance: it was the strongest reaction she had made to anything in too long. If anything, her anger was infinitely better than her neutrality. I said nothing, wanting the feeling of her, alive with emotion beside me, to last forever.

Besides kissing her senseless, which would not go down well, this was as alive as I could make her.

"Edward," she said again, obviously probed into curiosity and jealousy by my unapologetic silence, "Edward, are you not even going to explain?" I only chuckled gently, the sound developing into a full throated laugh as she shoved me, hard, "Edward, stop that."

"Stop what?" I asked, teasing her, bathing in the spark of fire in her brown eyes, which had been dull and lifeless before, "Laughing?"

"Yes," she shoved me again, her face flushing a little, "Stop that at once."

"I apologise profusely in advance," I struggled to hold back my laughing at the expression of kitten-like ferocity on her face, "But I do not think I can."

"Edward!" she was positively furious now, and still I could not stop the smile of pure joy that spread across my face at the life in hers, "Edward, I needed you, and...would you stop, you...you....male chauvinistic boar!" When I collapsed into hysteria at her words, laughing so hard that I was almost pumping my stomach out of my throat, she threw my arm from about her, turning on me, "Stop laughing at me!" It was not even amusing, in the slightest, and yet I felt so light and carefree I could not stop myself, even if I wanted to. And I certainly did not want to, because Bella looked so close to laughing herself that the happiness made me laugh harder. "Edward!" she elbowed me again, "What on earth is so funny?" I heard her titter a little as I collapsed off the chair onto the floor, attempting to hold my sides together, joy bubbling through my throat, loud and strong. And then, finally, that light, beautiful laugh of hers began to trickle past her lips. "Edward," she giggled, "Edward, you look so funny!" I was unable to speak against my irrational laughter, and hers was ringing in my ears, light but still warm. "Oh," she gasped, resting her head against the arm of the chair, "Oh, Edward, stop, please! It is starting to hurt me now!"

"It is...your fault," I gasped at her, still laughing, managing to sit up and grin at her, "If you were just not so absurd."

"Absurd, me?" She laughed again, "You are the absurd one. Oh," she carried on, sighing and rubbing her abdomen, giggling, "I have not laughed like that in...in...it feels like I have been," something seemed to strike her, and her laughter died at once, "That I have been...crying for weeks." She looked lost as she gazed at me, "Edward, is that what I have been doing?" The laughter was gone from her mouth, the smile from her eyes...the sadness was back, and it frightened me.

"Do not stop laughing, Bella," I almost begged her, unable to help myself, terrified of the abject weariness on her face, "Bella, please, keep smiling."

"How can I?" she whispered, her voice small and broken – she took my hands, biting her lip, "Edward, please, tell me how, and I will do it..." she reached down to touch my cheek, and my skin tingled at her touch, "Please, Edward, tell me how..."

"Bella, I..." I was lost for words, and I scrutinized her face, looking for some way to answer her – that was when I noticed the almost navy blue circles beneath her eyes. "Bella...have you been sleeping at all?" I asked, struck dumb by how tired she looked; she pulled away a little, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and I wondered how I could have missed her obvious exhaustion. Perhaps it was the worrying about her mental state...maybe it was not her mind, but simply her body that was losing its grip on reality.

"I...I have nightmares," she said shortly, sitting back on her heels in the chair and looking embarrassed, "It is nothing I cannot handle."

"Bella," I reprimanded her, taking her chin and lifting her head, making her meet my eyes, "You need rest." I rubbed a thumb over the deep purple skin before, in a second-short decision, sliding my arms beneath her and sweeping her off the chair. "Sleep," I told her, before she could even speak, let alone argue with me – I would not allow that anymore, and I knew she was too tired to fight me. She rested her head against my shoulder, sighing deeply; I felt almost wildly protective of her as she fell asleep in my arms on the walk back to her bedroom, so small and fragile I was sure that if I even jolted her she would shatter into a thousand pieces.

Her room was dark and cold, the window wide open and frigid air breezing through, making the curtains twist and writhe. I shivered as I walked in, and Bella curled closer to my chest – I closed the window before I set her down in the half-darkness, pulling the bedclothes close up around her, very slowly and quietly, not wanting to wake her. She had her fingers linked with my shirt, and when I attempted to pull back she held on, opening her eyes to whisper to me, "Stay with me, Edward." She did not have to say that she was afraid.

I held her for most of that evening and night, falling asleep beside her easily when she murmured my name in her sleep – her voice was soft and content, her sleep peaceful, and the warmth that seared through me when she whispered that she loved me was enough to send me into unconsciousness. In sleep she looked so carefree, and I wondered drowsily if I would ever see her so untroubled when she was not dreaming. My own sleep was dreamless, free of any thoughts or cares – I woke up feeling slow and heavy, my thoughts uncomplicated and fleeting, content to lie there for the rest of my life.

Bella herself was awake, and I felt the light of her smile before I saw it. "Good morning," she said quietly, and before I could answer or even open my eyes she pressed her warm lips to mine and kissed me. I could not help but sigh blissfully at the feeling of her lips on mine, so familiar and wonderful and comforting that I wondered how I could have gone without them for so long. My jaw set a little as she moved, pressing her mouth against my jaw as she murmured, "Good morning," again.

I forced my eyes open against the fire in my lungs that made it hard to breathe. "Good morning, love," I struggled out, and she kissed me again, drawing a hand through my hair and smiling, looking peaceful and thoughtful as she settled down beside me. I longed for her touch as soon as she withdrew it, and at once I drew her closer again, letting her rest her head on my chest – her slim fingers caught onto my rumpled shirt and she sighed. "No nightmares?" I asked her, pushing a lock of hair back from her face, bathing in the warmth of her smile.

"No," she confirmed, "No nightmares. Thank you, mind you," she smiled, "For staying with me. I know it is not exactly appropriate and your morals-"

"Morals be damned," I replied at once, too happy to feel any guilt at all – in my eyes, what I had done for her was right and good, with the purest of intentions. Getting into bed with her...all I had wanted was to make her better. Besides: we were the most unorthodox of couples, either way. I told her so, and she nodded.

"I think so too."

We lay together in silence for a while, simply watching each other, Bella's fingers in my hair and mine gently tracing across the bare skin of her neck and shoulder. The quite peace in the atmosphere and in her gentle smile was enough to make me believe that something in her had changed. I touched her cheek gently, and her eyes urged me on. "Are you better?" I asked her cautiously, and she glanced down, quiet for another second whilst I waited with bated breath for her answer.

"I know..." she swallowed hard, and took a deep breath – my heart ached for her, "I know what I have become...and I am determined to become myself again." She smiled bravely, attempting to tease me, "Of course, a few more nights like this may help me greatly..." she toyed with my sleeve, her cheeks flushing a little, "I do love waking up with you."

I kissed her then, very gently, and then I laughed, rolling into the sunshine and standing. "Enough," I chuckled, "I think there has been enough improper behaviour this morning." Of course, I did not object when she kneeled up and took my face in her hands, kissing me again – I knew I should, but there was no man in the world who I felt could resist a kiss from Isabella Swan. I smiled ruefully as I found myself seated in the bedclothes with her in my arms yet again, and I pulled back and raised a brow at her. "Go to breakfast," I told her, even as she blushed and smiled sheepishly, "I will find you later."

"I'll miss you," she called after me, her voice a little doleful – and, of course, I simply could not stop myself.

"Alright," I shut the door, flexing my fingers against the cold doorknob as I turned back towards her, "You have me."

She held out her arms, grinning wickedly – I sighed but willingly, eagerly, even, moved to sit down next to her. She pushed me down then lay down beside me, and I could tell she was attempting to be good because she pushed her hands under her cheek and curled into a slight ball, our bodies only just touching, not even under the sheets. Bella smiled and I turned my head, shaking it fondly at her – she laughed. "Breakfast be damned," she said, "This is far more enjoyable."

I gave in then, reaching out and pulling her close to me, wrapping her tight in my arms – I sighed into her hair, unable to scold myself, "Yes it is."


	14. Trouble

**Told you I'd update asap ;P**

**For those of you just returning, or just arriving, I've been on an unintentional hiatus for a while now...but I'm back, and I have a whole lot of stuff to update for you, perhaps not as quickly as these two have been, but right now I'm just trying to get the story moving again :D I'm in a good place, and updates should be about once every two weeks, maybe quicker if I can get myself together :D**

**Little reminder, in case you have no clue what's going on and, like me, can't be bothered to read back ;) Bella is with Edward now, everything was happy...then her Father got ill and he's close to dying. That's basically all you need to know :D**

**It is going to pick up very soon, and I hope you enjoy it when it does :D**

**Please review, it would mean a lot! Even one word would be totally awesome xx**

**Read on, my brave warriors!**

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"I'll miss you," I could not help but call out to him as he turned to leave, unable to stop myself from finding some way to make him stay – my body was abruptly cold, the memory of his warm arms around me, holding me through the night, still playing across my skin. I knew that he was trying to be courteous of me, but all I wanted was to be with him, and I wanted to know that he understood.

Edward turned, and I opened my arms to him – I knew that I had broken his resolve, because his beautiful smile was warm. He let go of the doorknob, a slight sigh escaping from his lips, "Alright," he said, and my heart leapt with joy as he began to move back towards me, "You have me." The words were enough to make my fingers itch, make my lips burn with want to kiss him; he sat down beside me, his expression resigned, and I grinned before pushing him down. Edward went willingly, and I lay beside him, attempted to reign in the need to touch him and content myself with simply looking at him. "Breakfast be damned," I said to him, wanting to tell him how much I appreciated his small sacrifices for me, "This is much more enjoyable."

Edward gazed at me for a second longer, his green eyes electric, before he reached out for me – I breathed a contented sigh in unison with his as his arms came around me, holding me close to him, comfortable and soothing. "Yes it is," he said to me, and I snuggled closer, resting my head on his warm chest, love for him filling me. Happiness and gratitude for him were all I could feel in that moment, and I lifted my head to him and whispered, meaning it more than I ever had before:

"I love you."

He raised a brow at the intensity in my voice and pressed his forehead to mine, smiling a little, "I love you too."

*

"Why on earth do you think he is visiting now, of all times?" Alice hissed to me a few days later as we sat, curled up behind the banisters of the stairs, watching with suspicious eyes as our Uncle Marcus arrived in our hallway – I glanced at her, knowing her apprehension was mirrored in my own face, and shrugged.

"Who could tell?" I murmured back, curling my fingers around the cold marble and pressing my eye closer to the gap, attempting to see better. "He could not possibly think a social visit would be appropriate...he knows Papa is not well."

Alice huffed, turning around to lean against the banisters, resting her head against the stone and sighing, her hands balling into fists. "He had better not have brought our cousins with him..." she said, looking at me, her gaze now despairing, "He has not, has he?"

I pulled back too, turning to gaze at the ceiling as the sound of high-pitched giggling filled the room, groaning gently. "He has."

Alice made a sound of distaste, "Oh, I do hate them."

"Now Alice," I reprimanded absentmindedly, even though I secretly agreed with her, "We hardly know them."

"Oh, yes we do," she scoffed, elbowing me, "Do not lie, Bella – all they do is twitter and giggle and prance around, with their stupid voices and their stupid views...and Mama will want us to spend time with them." She twisted at the sound of a high pitched laugh, and groaned in absolute despair, "And Aunt Theodora too! Oh, Bella," her expression was one of darkness, "What on earth are we going to do?"

"Hide," I said at once, crawling away from the banisters, swinging my hair over my shoulders and attempting to keep out of sight. "Come, Alice," I beckoned to her, "Quickly, before they see us."

She quickly followed, both of us remaining on hands and knees until we were safely out of eyesight, hurrying down the corridor. "Won't Mama seek us out and force us into their company?" Alice asked me – I shook my head, blowing a stray lock of hair out of my eyes.

"I certainly do not intend to be found."

"So, where are your girls, Renee?" We both stopped and stiffened as we heard our Uncle's hearty cry – Alice cursed under her breath, whilst I stood still and listened for Mama's reply, praying that she would lend us some form of escape.

I breathed a sigh of relief as she said, "Oh, I am sure they are somewhere, Marcus – but those two are so very good at making themselves scarce that I could not be sure of their whereabouts until dinner. Besides – I think they are out in town."

"Well," Uncle Marcus said, sounding miffed, "Please do tell them, if you see them, to come and take their leave of me before they decide to hurry off – I do assume they knew of my arrival beforehand?" Alice and I shared a look of astonishment at the obvious command he was issuing to Mama – of all things, he was asking her to make us ask for permission before we went somewhere? That was certainly a new rule, one that not even our own Papa had enforced on us.

Mama sounded astonished too, "Excuse me, Marcus? I do believe they have already taken their leave of their Papa and myself, and that is certainly all that is needed of them." By now Alice and I had turned and run back to stand behind the wall of the stairwell, listening intently to their conversation – Alice's eyes were wide, and I could imagine mine were too.

Uncle Marcus' tone was dry, "Times are changing, Renee. I am more the head of this family than I have ever been, and I expect my nieces to treat me as such. It is only a common courtesy, after all."

Mama did not contest this, but I could sense the apprehension in her voice as she murmured, "They are still my children, Marcus – you may be the head of this family, but I am the head of their world, not you. No offence intended, of course, Marcus: I say this with the utmost respect. Now, if you would excuse me, I must go attend to Charles. You know where your rooms are."

There was a beat of silence, the swish of Mama's dress as she left the room – then Uncle Marcus began to murmur to himself, too low for Alice and I to hear, and we decided the situation was dull enough for us to take our leave of it.

Alice veered away from me, but I was too preoccupied with my thoughts to murmur more than a quiet goodbye to her. In fact, I was so lost in my mind, I hardly noticed the high-pitched giggles echoing from a nearby corridor until I heard my name being cried. "Bella!" It was Edward's voice, and I rounded the corner to find him backed up against the wall, Jane advancing on him almost like some kind of predator – I gasped, riled at once.

"My Lord! Jane!"

"Bella!" that was her cry, but she did not spring back – if anything, she looked only a little annoyed at my interruption, "Bella, dear." She pulled away from Edward, who breathed a noticeable sigh of relief; I had to resist the urge to slap her as she purred at me, "What perfect timing you have, my cousin – Edward here was just offering to show me to my room." I did not miss the implication in her words, "How are you, my dear?"

"Edward does not need to do that," I replied stiffly, breathing deeply, attempting to control my anger – she had been quite obviously making passes at the man I loved, whether she knew it or not, and it made me see red. "You know exactly where your room is, Jane."

"Oh," she giggled, turning to glance at Edward who blanched at once, "There is no guarantee that I will not get desperately lost on the way and need some...special guidance..."

"Edward," I said at once, my patience gone, "Mother asked me to fetch you, and Jane – Uncle Marcus is searching for you." Catching her gaze, I stared her down until she cracked, eying me with something close to distaste before nodding stiffly.

"Just so," she turned on her heel, moving away silently, "Nice to talk to you, Edward," she called, and this time Edward had to hold me back from pursuing her and beating her into the ground.

"Calm, my love," he murmured, "Do not rise to her bait."

"How dare she," I growled, breathing fiercely, still straining against his arms, "How dare she...that silly little _slut_...making a pass at _you_..."

"Bella."

"The slut! How dare she! When I get my hands on her..."

"Bella, please," his hands were against my hair, stroking it, rubbing my scalp gently, "Bella, calm down...there is no way she could have known."

"That is of no consequence," I hissed, turning and stalking down the corridor, muttering darkly to him as he followed, "She should not be behaving so forwardly either way. It is disgusting, and inappropriate..." I groaned in disgust, "What on earth does Aunt Theodora _teach _them?" Abruptly I turned, suddenly needing his arms around me, and when he walked into me and yelped in surprise, I did just that. I sighed, putting my arms around his waist and pressing my face into his chest, sighing again much more contentedly when he hugged me to him, my irritation fading. "I am sorry, Edward," I murmured, "Seeing someone, especially her, treating you that way...it riles me in ways I cannot understand. It makes me so angry I simply want to..."

"I know," he whispered, amusement in his voice, "How do you think I felt about Jacob?"

"If she does that again," I vowed, rash but too full of emotion to care, "I am reporting it to Mama. Even if she must find out about us: I am telling her."

Edward sighed, leaning back to gaze down at me, pushing my hair back from my forehead before cupping my cheek. "Come," he said, smiling ruefully, "We need to be alone."

*

I spent the rest of that day with him, watching him play piano, reading, and generally staying within the circle of his arms, feeling genuinely more protective of him than usual. Even though my extended family had only been within the vicinity of my home for less than a day, they were already making their presence well and truly known. Already I was glancing surreptitiously around corners before I walked, checking for prying eyes before I touched or even spoke to Edward, already afraid of detection.

We were both quite aware what my Uncle could do to us.

"How long do you think they will be here?" Edward asked me finally as we stood at the entrance of his small set of rooms, our hands joined and swinging between us – I sighed, playing with his fingers, reluctant to let go but knowing that I must.

"I do not know, but," I smiled at him, pushing his hands to him before rising up on my toes, putting my palm to his cheek and kissing him a soft goodbye, "I am sure it will not be long."

"I will miss you," he called as I turned to leave, and I threw a smile at him.

"You have me."

Dinner that night was an intense affair – it was forcedly animated, due to my Uncle's insistence, but the tension was thick enough that I felt if I even moved the whole world would come crashing down around me in pieces. Alice was unnaturally quiet, toying with her food, and I refused to even set my eyes on Jane, even though I answered her probing questions. Uncle attempted to talk with Mama, but she was stiff and uninviting as ever she was when Uncle was near.

He made a fatal mistake after dinner, when we were all standing awkwardly around, waiting for him to excuse us – a rule he had quickly put into place as soon as he arrived. Mary appeared in the doorway, announcing that Papa was asking for Mama; I breathed a sigh of relief for a second as she nodded to a disgruntled-looking Uncle.

"If you would excuse me."

"Renee," Uncle Marcus said with poorly put on pity, his hand reached out as if to console her, "Might I just say, my dear: I am so sorry for your loss."

She stepped away from his outstretched hand, her face pinched and angry, her mouth disappearing and going white around the edges with obvious fury. Her blue eyes burned as she snapped, "He is not dead yet, Marcus." With that she swept from the room, Alice and I quick on her heels, a shared glance telling each other that we did not want to be anywhere near our Uncle. It was blindingly obvious that he did not care one bit for our Papa, or his wellbeing, though I could not understand why he would be here otherwise.

Alice understood it better than I. "Can you not see it, Bella?" she hissed to me as we followed Mama, stalking with her down the corridor – she took my hand and pulled us both away, melting into the shadows and leaving Mama to fume. Her eyes were wide and frightened, "He wants Papa's money."

"Why would he?" I gasped, scandalised and disgusted at the shallowness of the idea, "Does he not have his own?"

Alice shrugged delicately, "My guess would be that maybe our Uncle Marcus is not as wealthy as he would like us all to believe," she said, and I took in a surprised breath.

"Could he do that?" I asked tremulously – Alice looked grim.

"Papa has no sons. Uncle Marcus is like all the other vultures – swooping closer and closer, waiting until we are completely unprotected. Then they will strike."

Mama called for us then, and we left the shadows, not talking again – I was greatly troubled as Mama dismissed us, voicing my concerns to Edward on our evening walk together. He did not seem at all surprised by Alice's suspicions. "It is a dog-eat-dog world out there, love," he said, which only served to make me feel worse, "Those who are unstable in their fortunes search for others to solve their problems. Why do you think all Mamas are desperate to marry their daughters off to wealthy suitors? An excess of money generally means an easy living." He stopped then, turning to face me and obviously taking in my horrified expression – his words were making me sick to my stomach, and he smiled gently. "Bella, that is one of the more horrific sides of life – you needn't worry, my love." He pushed a lock of my hair away from my cheek and cupped my chin, "You come from a wonderful family, with a Mama and Papa who have taught you the right way of living, so all of this is not what you are used to. That is how it should be. I do not want you ever to have to worry, or even experience the rotten side of our society."

"Will I not have to?" I trembled at the thought of it, "When I am grown and Papa is gone and Uncle Marcus has taken all that we need to live on? I am the oldest daughter, Edward, it is my responsibility to look after Mama and Alice...surely I will have to fight to stay alive?" Edward drew me close and let me rest my head against his chest, holding me tight and shushing me gently, his hand soothing against my hair.

"You will never have to fight those battles," he told me, his voice determined, "Not as long as I am here. And I plan to be here forever." He took my chin in his fingers, stroking my jaw gently and locking his eyes with mine, "You may have the responsibility of looking after your family, but I have the responsibility of looking after you, whether you need me or not. I will always be here to protect you," he promised, "And I can easily swear that."

He was so melodramatic – but he knew exactly how to make me feel better, how to carry my fears easier without being crushed by them. My troubles were by no means solved, but Edward could easily alleviate my fear of them. I smiled at him, "I love you," I told him, and he replied with a light press of his mouth to mine.

"Besides," he said, chucking my chin gently, "Your Uncle is honour-bound to protect you, since he is technically the master of the Swan family. You are in no danger at all."

Something struck me then, a new fear presenting itself, one that made my heart go cold. "Edward," I asked, almost afraid to voice it, "Edward...what about you? What if Papa dies and Uncle gets what he wants and he has to support us? Does that mean...all of us? You, and your Mother and Father, and John and everyone else?"

His answer was vague, but the sudden stillness of his body, the stiffness in his reassuring smile, spoke tomes. "I could not say what your Uncle will choose to do," he said, but I knew he had his suspicions. There was a great chance, even I could see, that Alice, Mama and I would be the only ones whom my Uncle would care to support: if anything, the only reason was because we were blood. Edward...was not. I could not bear to even consider the consequences of that, so instead I pushed the thought away, as I did with so much else, and replied to Edward with the same false hope.

"I think he will," I said decisively, pretending only because there was nothing else neither Edward nor I could do, "Uncle Marcus is not a bad man."

"Definitely not," Edward agreed, but as the silence fell, leaving us both to our horrible thoughts again, he pulled me closer and tucked my head into his shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him, suddenly needing him there to reassure me of his presence.

For, in reality: I really did not know how long he would be there for. Whilst I avoided actually thinking anything of the sort, still the ice-cold fear lingered in my chest, and I clutched at him tighter, relishing him while I still had the chance.

We both knew the parting might someday come. We just had not accepted it.

*

In order to avoid as much personal contact with my Uncle as possible, Mama on quite short notice invited the whole town and much of the surrounding countryside to a ball the next evening. It was well attended: no man, woman or even child would dare miss one of Mama's parties, for even under the grim atmosphere of my Papa lying sickly in a bed no more than a few corridors away, they were still the talk of society. She stood at the door with us, Edward standing inconspicuously in the shadows behind me, his warm hands clasped with mine behind my back. We had been totally unable to let each other go, the fear that I would not even think of resting heavy on my shoulders – the only solution was to make sure he was with me at all times, that we would not and could not be parted: therefore, there was no feasible way that anyone could steal one of us from the other. Of course we were being ridiculous, but the situation had me uneasy, feeling as if we were teetering on a knife-sharp ledge, with no other fate but to fall. And, if that really was inevitable, I wanted to fall together, since it was so much better than being alone.

Mama had the musicians strike up a rousing tune, then she was gone from sight for the rest of the night, leaving the guests to themselves and Alice and I to oversee it all. What she did not anticipate, of course, was that Uncle Marcus would take charge: and take charge he did. At once Alice and I were pulled unwillingly away from Edward and Jasper, and introduced to scores of unending lines of young men, filling up our suddenly available dance cards. He positioned himself beside the musicians so he could command the dances, as well as putting himself in a place of power, where all had to look up to talk to him. It disgusted me, as I danced with a nameless (and personality-less) young viscount, to see him eying young and loose blonde girls from the town whilst my Aunt played hostess, sending the supposedly very available and desirable young suitors our way with one flick of her bony fingers.

I could easily sense Edward's angry and protective gaze on me, watching me all the time as I danced with the various men in order to keep my Uncle Marcus happy. If there was something I did not want, it was Uncle catching wind of my relationship with Edward. Alice obeyed without question too, both of us carefully avoiding our respective lovers' eyes, for the sake of protection than anything else. During a momentary respite Edward managed to force his way to me, and we both pulled away from the crowded rooms, sneaking into a closet to sit together for a minute or two. But it was only a minute, for I would easily be missed. I sat there with his arms around me, my head resting on his shoulder, letting his frustration at the obvious courting of me by my Uncle ebb until I saw him smile again. Then I kissed him quickly, stood to brush off my skirts, and entered the fray again, letting a sore-looking Jasper and a harried Alice take our place.

The viscount appeared again, and eventually, after hours of the boy stepping on my toes and attempting to force me into dark corners, it came to such a point where I had to be physically pulled away from him by Alice – I could imagine his fingers had made marks on my skin, he was holding onto me so tightly. I shuddered and thanked Alice, finally deciding that I had had more than enough for the night. Deciding it would be more loyal to my Mama to disappear without informing my Uncle, and feeling rather rebellious anyway due to the obvious matchmaking my devious relative was up to, I stole away without doing just that. Brushing past Edward who was leaning against the wall, his body obscured by darkness yet highlighted by candlelight, I tripped my fingers across his, signalling that he should follow.

Opening the door, the dark corridor stretching out before me, I glanced up to find my Uncle watching me with eagle eyes, seeming almost flat due to the darkness – I ducked my head, glad the darkness hid my defiant blush, moving out the door before he could stop me. Biting my lip as I hurried down the corridor, not afraid of the quicker footsteps following me, I wondered why Uncle Marcus seemed so intent on me. It was making me more than uneasy to find him watching me so constantly. I wondered whether it was because he had certain plans for me, or whether he simply wanted to make sure I did not get into any trouble or embarrass the 'Swan dignity'. Either way, I did not like it.

Edward caught up with me as we turned the corner, stepping in next to me and twisting his fingers through mine, neither of us speaking until we were a safe distance from the noisy chatter and light, retreating into the darkness. Even then it was only a simple hello, and the squeeze of the hand as I led him to my room – if he had any objections, he was not voicing them, and I took that to heart when I reached the familiar door and turned the knob.

I flattened my palms against his chest, feeling nothing less than furtive as I glanced surreptitiously around me one last time before pushing him through the open door into my bedroom – he stumbled backwards, both of us disappearing, and I took one final down each end of the corridor then stood back, throwing the door closed and twisting the key in the lock. "There," I sighed satisfactorily, turning to a surprised looking him, "Now no one knows we are here."

He looked around the room, taking in the closed curtains and the lack of candlelight. "Yes," he murmured, seeming thoughtful, "Yes, I suppose they do not." He glanced back at me, pressed up to the door as if barring it against any intruders – he must have thought me insane. "Is there a reason for this?"

"Of course," I scoffed, "Why else would I force you into a dark room without telling you a reason for it?"

"I am not going to answer that," he chuckled, sitting down on the bed and smiling crookedly at me; I flushed, moving to sit beside him, twisting my fingers into knots.

"Well," I started, shrugging gently, "Since my Uncle is here and he seems so ludicrously determined to follow my every move...I thought this was the safest way to spend time with you," I glanced up at him, attempting to gage his reaction, "Safest for both of us." Edward made a noncommittal noise, his gaze still on my face but his eyes rather absent, as if he were thinking of other things. I took the chance to gather myself, to take a breath and attempt yet again to rid myself of the horrible fear that the boy in front of me, who I loved more than life itself, would be taken away from me.

And it was becoming clearer and clearer that my Uncle could be one of our greatest enemies.

When Edward still did not speak, staring at me but not seeming to see me, I snapped two fingers in front of his eyes and asked him, "Edward? Edward? Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine," he murmured in reply, seeming to become himself again, smiling crookedly down at me, "Perfectly alright, thank you."

"Oh."

"It is very dark in here," Edward commented absently, and I had to resist raising a brow, instead nodding gently.

"It is."

"It is very dark," Edward murmured, his eyes beginning, alight with something strange, "And...we are quite alone."

"Quite," I swallowed, my heart picking up pace, beating against the inside of my chest as he gazed at me, something foreign and yet very exciting in his eyes.

"No one knows we are here?" he seemed to be adamantly questioning this, and I nodded almost mechanically, lost in his warm eyes, my heart bruising my skin and its beat ringing in my ears.

"I suppose...not."

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me." He smiled a little at that, still gazing at me, and even as my heart began to pump faster and my stomach began to twist in on itself, I still could not help but be irritated at his opacity, "Edward, what on earth is wrong with you tonight? Why are you so...so..."

"Odd?" he answered for me, suddenly reaching out and touching my cheek – my skin burned where he touched me, "I do not know...I suppose the darkness and the aloneness of our situation is inspiring me a little...the fact that we could do absolutely anything we wanted, and there would be no one to stop us."

"What are you suggesting?" I asked breathlessly, sure I knew the answer but unable not to ask anyway.

"I have watched you dance with endless different men tonight," he said, his voice soft yet powerful in the darkness, making me shiver, "Torture beyond all compare..." his smile was slightly wicked as he whispered, "But what can I do that they cannot?" He moved his face close to mine, pressing our foreheads together, his breath against my lips; he chuckled. "Oh, I can do this."

"Edward," I breathed, wrapping my arms around him and pressing myself close to him, "Oh, Edward, I am so afraid."

"Just forget it, my love," he smiled gently, "Forget the fear, push it all away – it is behind that door," the key was glinting in the darkness, "And it is locked." We smiled at each other, and he kissed me gently before sighing; I propped my head up on his shoulder and let him hold me for a long minute. And then, just as I pulled away and lifted my head to kiss him, a vigorous pounding on the door nearly had me crying out in terror, ghosts and monsters already roaring out of the darkness to catch me. I pressed a hand to my heart as Edward shushed me, breathing deeply – he lit a candle and moved to the door. Someone was shouting outside.

"Bella! Edward! Please, open the door!"

At once I stood, recognising the voice, and something deep in me knew what had my little sister screaming as if the sky was falling. I threw open the door to find her wide terrified eyes – my heart almost stopped in my chest.

"Papa."


	15. Drowning on Dry Land

**WARNING - Badly Written Sadness up at head. You have been warned. **

**Thank you all for your support - I'm very proud of myself for getting another chapter out within the year lol :D Thank you for all your reviews - they mean a lot, and this story is far from finished, so I hope you enjoy the ride :D**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing, Stephanie Meyer does :( **

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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I tore out of the room after Alice, my heart beating fast but cold in my chest – I could hardly form a coherent thought, but the one thing I could think was: I must reach him before he goes. For I understood completely that Papa's time had come, and whilst I was deliberately ignoring the screams of anguish echoing from the back of my mind, I still knew that I had little time left.

I reached his room and swung around the doorframe, shouting, "Papa! Papa!" Running to his bedside, he turned his gaze to me – one final smile, a sigh that I could not understand...and then his hand went limp in my Mother's, his eyes closing, his last breath coming like a puff of smoke into the air.

Edward careered into the room a second later, calling to me, but it was too late. Far, far, far too late.

"No..." I whispered, my trembling hands drifting up to cover my mouth, unable to tear my gaze away from the cold, still, white body of my father. No. It could not be true. He could not be...

Dead.

"No!" Mama shrieked, her scream of despair shattering the tense, silent air – she threw herself onto him, sobbing, each of her cries a sharp knife at my heart, "Charlie!" Alice sat, still at his side, her small hand in his, her deep blue eyes wide and wet, blankly staring at where his smile used to be, her face flat and expressionless; silent.

"Charlie! Oh gods, no, no! Charlie!" Mama was crying desperately, sobbing and shaking, and I found I was crying too – the pain that lanced through me was so great that it had me doubling over, my hands pressed over my mouth. I gasped for breath but all I could do was sob, and I wrapped my arms tight around myself, tears running fast down my cheeks. I felt hands slide across mine, another pair of arms winding around me, a voice in my ear, but all I could really hear was my Mother crying out, "Charlie, please, wake up! Charles! Wake up, please!"

I put my hands over my ears, turning my face into Edward's chest – he held me there, shushing me gently, arms all the way around me, his face buried in my hair; like me, I knew he could hardly bear to look at the man who had meant so much to all of us lying there, cold and motionless. I began to cry as Mama howled, desperately pressing my hands against my ears, begging it all to go away. Edward hugged me tighter as I tried to block it all out, the sounds of Mama's grief almost sending me to distraction.

"Charlie! No!"

"Make it stop," I cried, pressing my ears harder; Edward's fingers came up to cover mine, almost cradling my head in his hands, hugging me all the tighter as I sobbed, "Make it stop!"

The whole room was a river of sorrow for a few long minutes after that.

No one knew what to do. Mama was hysterical, much as Elizabeth and Alice attempted to soothe her, eventual tears streaming silently down both their faces at the raw anguish of her grief. I could not bear to look, instead keeping myself within Edward's arms, afraid to turn around and face the reality. The pain kept the tears flowing, but I did not know what I would do if I had to look upon my Father's unseeing eyes.

I was holding on, but only barely. The shock was the only thing keeping me from losing it.

Edward shushed me gently, "Shhh, love," he murmured, pressing his face into my hair and holding me tight, "Shush, love, it will be alright." There was no hiding for us now as I cried into his shirt, holding onto him, desperately needing his warmth and his comforting solidness against Mama's shrieks of grief.

Eventually, at a loss for anything else to do, Alice was curled up with Mama, trying to soothe her as she sobbed – the coroner came and examined Papa, but I could hardly concentrate...I could barely watch. I forced myself, turning around in Edward's embrace, leaning heavily against him as I watched over my Papa. Something had me convinced that someone, anyone, had to be there to stand by him as he was poked and prodded at, to keep his body safe and make sure he was kept at peace. I had to believe there was something that I could do to make the passing easier for him, and standing guard over him made me feel stronger, more purposeful. Edward did not let me go, even as his father picked Mama up and carried her away, crying even as she slept fitfully: she was even more exhausted from grief than I, having sat up with Papa until the bitter end, watching him slowly fade away.

The coroner took him away after an hour or two, telling me it was terrible bad luck to keep a dead body in the house – that made me cry again as I watched them load him into a carriage as if he were worthless goods, shutting him in the back before driving away. I leant against the cold window and sobbed helplessly, watching my Papa disappear into the inky night. What made it worse was the knowledge that now, my Papa was just that: a dead body. No life, no soul...nothing. Everything that had made him my Father, one that I loved more than anything, had gone as soon as his final breath rattled out of him. He was an inanimate corpse now. Nothing more.

As soon as that thought hit me I cried out, pounding the window with my fist and sobbing harder, pain lacing through me just as if someone had sliced patterns through my skin with a carving knife, tears pouring out that were hot and thick as blood. "No!" I cried miserably, "No, Papa, no!" I carried on screaming, even as Edward's warm hands drew me away from the window, pulling me into his embrace. I cried for an immeasurable length of time, whether hours or days or months, I did not know.

Eventually the tears faded, the sorrow retreated, and I lifted my head to look at Edward, the gesture somehow genuinely difficult – he smiled softly down at me, and I sighed, shaking my head and pressing it back against his chest. Everything was wrong: it felt as if life had gone sour, and even the stars had darkened. Edward held me tight, whispering in my ear, "Bella?" He sighed heavily, "Oh, Bells..."

"I have to..." I gulped back a sob, pushing away from him, "I must go see if Mama is alright."

He nodded gently, his face solemn as I pulled away – he let my hand slip out of his, and I turned, wrapping my arms around myself as I walked out quickly. I could feel him watching me but I kept moving, unable to turn around, to stay there any longer. I fully intended to go straight to bed and cry the tears that were stopping my heart from beating, or me from even speaking – all the way to Mama's room I had my head bowed, pushing back the thoughts, the memories, the aching knowledge that Papa was gone. It pressed on me, beating against me, calling to be acknowledged – but I could not.

Mama was asleep, little Alice wrapped in her arms, tears staining both their cheeks – I stayed no longer than a minute, watching them, before I could not do it anymore.

All I wished to do was to go to bed and cry.

But I found I could not. I wrapped myself up in the bedclothes, settling down and preparing myself...but nothing came. I felt numb, empty...cold.

I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, staring into the darkness, feeling absolutely nothing. And then I found that I was frozen there, unable to move or think, hardly able to breathe – it felt as if the darkness was pressing in on me, and I was unable to stop it, unable to move away from it. All the time my mind pounded with one thought: dead, dead, dead...

After an immeasurable minute of terror, there was a sudden shift of the bedcovers I lay curled up under, and then, suddenly, I felt him there, in front of me. His arms, strangely warm against my icy skin, wound around me, pulling me against him – I shivered a little, unused to the warmth he radiated.

I was so cold.

Silently he tucked his head over mine, pressed a kiss into my hair, tugged the blankets right over our heads so we were immersed in darkness, none of the cold air able to bite at my skin. He said nothing, simply shifted my body to lie against his, fitting his to mine, winding himself around me and simply holding me.

I could not say how long I cried for – it could have been minutes, but it could have been days; I did not know.

Even after my tears stopped, we still lay there together in silence, in the warm, sultry darkness – I counted the seconds by his heartbeats, passed the time listening to his regular breaths, in and out, in and out...I did not want to move, so there I stayed, and Edward stayed with me. I drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes awake, sometimes not, sometimes aware of everything and sometimes of nothing: Edward was the only thing that was constant, never moving, his warmth, his heart, always there – I could not tell if he had fallen asleep, or if he was simply lying awake, but still he made no sound at all. He just held me, whether in sleep or in consciousness, and it helped.

The hours melted into one another, and I was in that strange oblivion when even consciousness becomes naught but a dream, and you cannot even tell when you are awake or asleep – I could not focus on anything, so my mind was drifting in a limbo of sorts. I could not tell what was dreams and what wasn't, but it did not matter to me then. I was fixing, healing somewhat, in some strange way – it was no longer blackness, an endless space, choking me, pressing down on me, so I was unable to escape, to break the surface and breath...it was just peace. Serenity; dark simply because I wanted it to be. I was comfortable and warm, and what was real and what wasn't did not matter anymore...I was perfectly content with simply lying still for however long I did, and Edward never moved.

Afterwards I was sure he had fallen asleep, for when I opened my eyes sun was streaming through the thin blanket – the afternoon sun, I could tell, from its rich warmth and colour, from its strength that I almost had to narrow my eyes against. It had been dark when Edward had come, which meant it had been almost a whole night and half a day that we had lain together, unmoving. He was awake beside me, and he did not say a word as I turned my gaze on him – he simply smiled at me, and I could not help but smile back.

If I had thought that first night was hard, nothing could have prepared me for the aching agony that was Papa's funeral.

Alice and I had to coax Mama slowly into her stiff black mourning gown, almost treating her like a little child – Alice combed and pinned up her hair whilst I slipped her shoes on for her, and then we guided her out, one of us on each arm, whilst she simply looked ahead, her face blank. She had not spoken in days, and neither of us knew what to do. Edward and Jasper and the rest of the household met us at the door, and slowly we proceeded into the town, a long, solemn line of black, our heads bowed, gathering members as we went.

The funeral was held in the church hall, but I could not remember a thing about it – I was blank, numb, neither listening to the priest nor seeing him. Instead my gaze was, absurdly, trained on the stained glass window, watching the light play through the coloured glass, creating patterns on the floor. It made me smile, but only because by watching the light, I could forget. As soon as I lowered my gaze, the pain and sorrow hit me again, and even though I should have cried myself dry, tears still dripped down my cheeks. I let them, not caring for appearances, even though it only served to make me feel worse.

I followed with Mama and Alice as six young men carried the dark coffin on their shoulders, feeling empty as we gathered around the hole in the ground – the priest murmured words, and I supposed he was talking to the sky, asking for them to treat my Papa well: God knew, I was. Mama was crying again, and Alice was silent and still, but I could not help but avert my eyes from the wide, gaping hole that I was somehow sure led straight into hell.

His eyes caught mine across the crowd of the overdressed, their heads bowed in what they thought was grief, or sadness, or regret, or pity – but I knew what grief was. I knew what sorrow was.

And it was terrible.

As soon as I found who I was searching for I moved; away from my family, from my mother and sister, backing away from the abyss that I was sure would swallow me whole if I stood near it any longer. I moved to him, almost pulled towards him: he stood on the outskirts of the crowd of people, his gaze on me instead of on the ground, on the living instead of the dead. No one was rude enough to look up to see where I was going, to raise their heads – at least they were respectful.

Edward reached out to me, took my hand, squeezed my fingers gently in his – I took my strength from him, knowing I was dangerously close to collapsing. Together we watched them lower the casket into the ground, together we oversaw as they piled masses of dirt over him, burying him deep in the graph...together we made sure he was at rest, until my Mama and Alice had bid their goodbyes and everyone else had gone, and twilight was rising in the sky. I knelt down beside the headstone, kissing my fingers and pressing them to the cold stone before sitting back on my heels and staring balefully at the granite, unable to think of what to say. Words failed me, and Edward squeezed my shoulders gently as I sighed, glancing up at him. "I cannot..." my voice trailed off, and I bit my lip, looking back towards Papa's grave, "Papa, I-"

Edward knelt down beside me, and somehow he could say what I could not. "It has been an honour, sir," he murmured, "And I promise I will take care of her, so you do not have to worry." I nodded gratefully at him – he took my hand and squeezed it, "Say goodbye to him, Bella. That is all you need to do."

I took one more breath, but still my voice cracked as I spoke as bravely as I could, "I love you, Papa. I always will." I bowed my head, brushing the tears away, and Edward wrapped his arms around me, tucking me into his side. Forcing the tears back, forcing myself to be strong because I knew Papa would want me to, I raised myself to my feet and sighed. "Goodbye, Papa," I whispered, and then, taking Edward's hand in mine, we finally turned and headed for home.

I ate with the Masens that night; Mother would not leave her room, and Alice was with her, so the dining room would have been completely empty – it was cold, and I could not bear to be alone with my thoughts, for fear of what I would find there.

Edward took me downstairs with him, holding my hand tightly, as if I would disappear without his grip on me, but his gaze was careful and movements, as if I would break any second. I supposed, with the amount of on and off crying I had been going through since the funeral, he was right. I stared at the floor, concentrating only on Edward's touch, his warm skin – that was the keeping me here; reminding me of what else I had to live for.

I knew I would get better. But, at the moment, it was hard even to find a reason to smile, let alone find a reason to wake up tomorrow morning.

Edward had not left me all day; it was as if he sensed my mood – again, he probably had, but I was too numb still to notice. All I knew was that his hand in my own was the greatest comfort in the world – he was my lifeline. It had been a very long day, and I did not know when it would end for me.

Elizabeth smiled gently at me as Edward lead me into their small kitchen, "Bella, dear," I noticed her eyes were red too, her hair tangled around her shoulders instead of pinned up neatly in her usual style, "How lovely to see you. How are you?"

I nodded, unable to smile back, and Edward squeezed my hand, "She's fine, Mother. A little worse for the wear, but fine."

"Has she been talking?"

"To me," Edward replied, hesitating a little, "Every...now and again."

"Bella?" she addressed me now, "I would like for you to tell me yourself – how are you?"

"Mother..."

"Edward, she has to have the incentive to try – I know what she is doing. She is hiding away inside herself."

"No," I pushed out, my voice hoarse, alien to me, "No, Mrs Masen...I...I need..." But the words would not come, and my voice trickled and crackled into non-existence. I looked to Edward, and he nodded gently.

"She needs to fix what is broken inside her, Mother," he nodded to me, smiling encouragingly, "Before she can fix what is broken around her." I nodded too, smiling back at Edward, and Mrs Masen raised her brows before shrugging her shoulders gently.

"If you must, Bella."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Dinner was never going to be a talkative affair – I hardly felt the need to speak more then was courteous, and even then my voice was brief and small. Edward Senior was as quiet as I – he and Papa had been very good friends, and, quite unlike myself, Edward Senior had never been one for outward emotion. But, I supposed to myself as Elizabeth and Edward talked quietly, that was simply a male thing. At the end of the meal, when Elizabeth and I had cleared the plates away, her giving me a wide smile when I quietly offered to help, we all convened in their small living room, Edward and I on one chaise and Elizabeth and Edward Senior on the other.

I gazed, somewhat contentedly, around the cosy little room – it was not much at all, but still I felt immensely at home here. The small window overlooking the Edward's father's dusky flower garden was partially obscured by a pair of light calico curtains, golden flowered patterns almost dancing their way across the chocolate-brown fabric, swaying in the gentle breeze that wafted through the window, which was ajar. Two double candlesticks, made of simple shaped iron, perched on the low walls opposite each other, and the furniture we were occupying lay beneath each one, again facing each other. The candlelight was low and the room was comfortable in the warm-half darkness – Elizabeth and Edward's hair seemed to be strange points of fiery light in amongst the blue-yellow shadows. The chaises were some of the most comfortable in the house – they were second-hand, from when Mama had redecorated the whole of the East Wing, maybe five years ago now. She had been adamant that their deep red velvet coverings had no place in the blue room which she so pined for, but I had been just as insistent that they should not be destroyed and used to power our fires for the winter. Luckily Edward, crafty as usual and quite away of my dismay, convinced his parents that red velvet chaises would go perfectly with the decor of this room – he was quite the arguer, and even though they did not match in the slightest, there they stayed.

To be honest, I much preferred the charming awkwardness of this room – it gave it a quality that not many other places in this house did. Nowadays, it was considered almost the highest of social blunders not to have every single piece of furniture in a room match the wallpaper, as well as the curtains and the ornaments and the view, and this room was just so defiant and different that I liked it immensely. So much so that as soon as I sat down next to Edward, my head automatically drooping to rest on his shoulder, I began to feel quite sleepy, tired out from the day's events. Edward chuckled gently, taking my hand and squeezing it as Elizabeth began, in a whisper as she obviously did not think I could hear, "Well...it was a lovely funeral, was it not? Quite appropriate...a fitting send off."

"Yes, dear," Edward senior said, a smile in his voice that I recognised, "Of course it would. Charles would have not wished for anything better."

"I only wish," Elizabeth sighed, "I only wish there was some way we could know...that we could be sure that he is at rest. I do not think there could be anything worse than not being able to find peace...after...after..."

"Do not worry, my dear," Edward senior said, and I could not be sure that Edward was paying attention, he seemed too engrossed in stroking my hair, but I could hear them as clearly as if they were whispering in my own ears, "He will be taken care of, as well as he deserves."

Elizabeth noticed me then, almost completely asleep, and at once ordered for Edward to take me into his room – she had no qualms about it, as she herself had raised Edward to be the perfect gentleman. She bid him goodnight, and said more to him, but I was far more engrossed in drowsily thinking about what she and Edward senior had been discussing. I wondered sleepily, drifting there in Edward's arms, whether Papa really was at rest. Whether he really was somewhere, watching over us...thinking about him made me realise how much I missed him, even though it had only been a day or two since he had gone. I could not stop the thoughts from waking me, from throwing themselves against me – my mind forced me to realise that I had many more days, the whole of the rest of my life, to endure without him.

Grief swelled in me yet again – I had held it at bay for too long – and as Edward set me down before moving to sit next to me, tears began to leak down my cheeks, following the well-beaten trails over my skin. Edward sighed and took me in his arms again, holding me for as long as it took me to cry out my sorrows silently against his chest. His warmth was comforting, and I felt much less alone in the world. Whilst I knew that I was not, and Papa would be ashamed of how weak I was, I could not help myself.

My Papa was gone forever, and I did not know how long it would be before I could live with that.

"Bella?" Edward asked quietly as my tears began to slow – I knew he was curious, and that he was aching because he had no idea what was wrong...and being Edward, of course he desperately wanted to know.

"Edward," I whispered, gazing up at him as he stroked my cheek gently, saying the only words I could think of that would make him feel a little better, "Do you truly believe that Papa..." I gulped back my tears, unable to cry anymore – my heart was raw from grief, and I was sure that if I began crying again I would never stop. I would cry myself into non-existence...and I could not do that. It was quite obvious to me then that I would have to be strong now: I would have to carry on living, for Edward as much as for the remainder of my family.

He needed me, my Edward. I had to carry on living for him.

But still I could not help but voice my final fear. "Do you truly believe," I asked him, "That Papa has gone somewhere better than here? That he is up there," I gestured limply toward the stars in the window-pane, which seemed awfully faint in the all-consuming night, "Watching over us? Do you believe he is there, Edward?"

He smiled at me, running his fingers fondly across my jaw, pushing my hair back from my cheeks before kissing my forehead gently. Pulling me closer, settling me more firmly against him, he whispered in reply: "There is no way he could not be."

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**Naww. And so the first death in FMN takes place :( **

**I hope it wasn't too confusing, and the next chapter will hopefully be out in a few days. Thank you for your reviews, and please, even one word would be great appreciated :D**

**Love Muchly :D**

**ATO xxxx**


	16. So Confrontational

**Hey, guys! Another update, I hear you gasp? I know :D This is Un-Betaed, but I have to keep to schedule...so sorry, blondie, but I wanted to get something out before I hit the two week mark :D **

**I hope you enjoy...I certainly am :D**

**DISCLAIMER - All is SM's**

**Read on, my brave warriors!**

* * *

"Tell your Mother I say farewell," Uncle said to me as he ducked into the dark interior of the carriage, tucking a batch of papers he had taken from Papa's study into the chest pocket of his coat – my heart had sunk when I found him there a few hours after Papa's funeral, ransacking his desk, his enthusiasm apparent. It was quite obvious to me he intended to take full control of our family, as well as his own, and whatever he had taken would only aid him in his plans: whatever he had planned for us was surely not going to be good. I sighed, curtseying, attempting to be polite even though all I wished to do was throw something heavy at him.

"Yes, Uncle...and, of course, Aunt, cousin Jane and Oliver and Peter are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish them to." I hoped he could not hear the sarcasm in my voice, and of course he did not, all too engrossed in himself and what he had to gain from this all.

"You are such a good girl, Isabella," he smiled, and I shivered a little, not liking how he was looking at me – I stood alone, because Mama refused to leave her room and, since I was the oldest, I now had the responsibility of looking after the household until Mama got better, if ever. "You will make an excellent wife, I am sure."

I laughed nervously, twisting my skirt in my fingers, "Well, I myself am not too sure I will be marrying anytime soon, Uncle."

"Sooner than you think, my girl," he said, "A young lady like yourself is much desired by many..." I bit my lip, worried at the sudden light in his eyes. "A very good match indeed..." he murmured under his breath, and my heart went cold. "I will return in no less than a week, Isabella," he said, not looking at me as he spoke, then he slammed the door shut – I jumped as the coachmen yelled a throaty cry, and the horses reared and hurried off, dragging the coach with it. I realised I was gripping the marble banister of our front stairwell so tightly than my knuckles were white against my skin, and I flexed them gently as I watched the carriage rattle away, before turning and hurrying back inside, suddenly fearful of the darkening sky.

I had to hold back a startled cry as Edward appeared almost from nowhere, his warm hands on my icy arm and his tall frame appearing in front of me. "Good evening," he smiled at me, his arms going around my waist and pulling me to him – I glanced about, fearful that someone was watching, the feeling of unease still not having left the pit of my stomach.

"Edward, please..." the shadows even seemed to be watching us, which only heightened my paranoia, "Someone could be-" My words were silenced in my throat as he kissed me, his warm mouth stopping the movement of mine – I sighed against his lips, intensely comforted even though Edward could not have known how I was feeling.

I almost melted into his arms, leaning against him, and he kissed me for a minute longer before pulling away and chuckling lightly, "You worry too much." I sighed, resting my head against his chest, wondering what on earth I would do without him. He must have sensed my anxiety as he said to me, "Come, love...we shall check on your Mama, and your Aunt and cousins, then we can go somewhere quiet and you can calm down." Edward smiled at me warmly, and my heart thumped in my chest a little – how ever was I supposed to calm down when he behaved this way?

My Aunt was already snoring, my small cousins Peter and Oliver were sword-fighting in their room – Peter had Oliver wrapped in the drapes, and I was loathe to gain a black eye from trying to separate them, so I just let them be. Edward scrambled away as soon as Jane batted her eyelashes at him from her door, and I wished her a cold goodnight before heading to check on Mama and Alice.

Mama's room was dark, the heavy drapes closed against the warm sunset; the room smelt slightly musty, as if it had been unlived in for weeks, though Mama had been in here unfailingly – I could see her now thin form underneath the bedclothes, curled into a small ball, and I sighed, moving to sit beside her. "Mama?" I reached out to touch her hair, which was knotted from her tossing and turning as she slept – though she hardly did nowadays, and when she did it was always fitful. She didn't move, her eyes open, staring at the dark wall but not seeing anything, certainly not me. Shaking my head sadly, and knowing there was nothing I could do for her, I leant down and kissed her cold cheek gently. "I love you, Mama," I told her, stroking her hair again and squeezing her hand, "I always will. I...I hope you feel better." Still she didn't move, or speak, and I had to hold back childish tears as I stood up and left, picking up the uneaten stale plate of bread and cheese as I went.

I missed my Mother terribly, but there was no space or time to cry anymore.

Rather than sleep alone, I went to Alice's room, sliding unhesitatingly into bed beside her, needing the company...my little sister's unfailing optimism was always heartening, and when she turned to me it was with a slight smile. "Hello," she said, her head on her hands, laughing a little, "You know, someday we will both be too big to fit in this bed together."

"Nonsense," I said to her, pulling the bedclothes a little tighter over me, the darkness a little disconcerting, "You will always be small, you know that."

She sighed, feigning sadness, "I know...I suppose I should just accept that I am cursed to never be able to reach the top shelf...oh, how will I ever be able to bake pies if I cannot reach the flour?"

I laughed, then I shook my head at her, "You are silly."

She smiled, before closing her eyes and settling down, "Goodnight, Bella."

"Alice, do you think-"

She opened one eye, "Sleep. I am not going to have any deep conversations with you now, Bella."

"But-"

"Sleep!"

I sighed, giving up and closing my eyes too. "Night, Al."

"How is Mama?" Alice asked across the table a day or so later – the house was relatively back to normal, apart from the irritating presence of my cousins and Aunt, the still achingly empty space at the end of the table, and the prominent absence of Papa's laugh. I glanced up from buttering my toast, the silver knife somewhat warm in my cold fingers, having been distracted by again wondering on our troubles, and what the future might hold.

"The same," I sighed. I had been the last of us two to sit with her – we took turns now, never leaving her alone for more than a few hours, for fear of what she might do in her silence. Each time I would sit down beside her, take her cold hand in mine, squeeze it tight and talk to her, trying to coax her into speech: but nothing worked. She would simply stare blankly at me, her eyes almost black in the darkness, and never say one word.

"Oh." She sighed, sitting back in her seat and resting her feet on the table, shrugging her shoulders gently, "She never changes, then."

"No feet on the furniture, Al," I reprimanded her without thinking, reaching for the marmalade; she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Mother."

"Well, someone has to make sure you keep your manners," I countered, finished preparing my toast and taking a bite, "After all, we have to keep everything running whilst...whilst Mama gets better."

"Do not talk while you are eating," she said, smiling a little, even though I knew we were thinking the same thing – what if she never got better? I sighed, swallowing before I answered dryly.

"Yes, Mother."

She laughed, then swung her feet down, leaning on the table whilst I ate, staring at the stretch of wall above my head; we sat in companionable silence for a while in the empty dining room – it seemed very cold even in the quickly warming conditions of the middle of an English Summer. My Aunt and cousins were not here, as Alice and I had quickly learned how they were accustomed to breakfast in bed, as well as a large array of servants to wait on them hand and foot...bearing in mind, of course, they wished to rise any time before noon.

They were lazy. All of them lazy and pampered and self-indulgent.

As soon as I finished I pushed my chair back – the noise scraped against my ears and the sun flashed into my eyes, making me wince and throw an arm up, muffling my voice as I said, "Well, I am going outside."

"Why?"

I stepped away from the window's glare and rolled my eyes, "I will see you later, Alice."

"Righty-ho," she winked; I raised a brow

"Righty-ho?" I asked her, and she laughed.

"Jasper taught me it."

"Of course," I chuckled too – she scoffed then waved her hands at me.

"Get on – out of here. I will get Mary to help clear up."

I was already out of the room, "See you later, Alice!"

Edward was waiting for me in our meadow, turning to smile at me as soon as he caught sight of me; I ran straight into his arms, almost knocking him down in my haste. "Edward!" I may have resolved to become more grown-up in the past few weeks, but Edward could easily reduce me to a shrieking, silly child.

He chuckled and hugged me tight, sighing into my hair, "I will never grow tired of that..." I simply smiled and pressed my face into his shirt, breathing him in and sighing with him, feeling totally content. "How is your mother?" he asked gently, catching his eyes with mine – I sighed.

"She never changes."

He was silent for a second, then he gently brushed my cheek with the back of his finger, "And you?" His eyes were achingly soft, "Are you alright?"

I could not lie to him. "I have been better," I sighed, letting the breath rush in and out of me before I added, "I miss him."

Edward knew what I meant – he sighed too. "I worry about you so," he said, cupping my chin in his hand, but I brushed him away, instead raising myself up on my tiptoes and twining my arms about his neck.

"You should not," I told him, brushing my fingers against his cheeks and smiling, "I will be right as rain soon enough." Then I kissed him, banishing any protestations from his lips, wanting happiness and joy and pleasure rather than talk of the past. Edward chuckled but obliged, sighing against my lips as he kissed me back.

"My," he murmured gently, not breaking our mouths apart but letting the whisper escape through the cracks – his voice was muffled and disjointed, "You are excitable today."

"Mmm," I murmured back, leaning away a little and swaying in his arms, wanting to see him laugh again, "Maybe I am simply just attempting to seduce you."

"You, seduce me?" he pulled me close, pressing our foreheads together and grinning, "Never." I laughed too, leaning in to kiss him once more, joy in my heart, before I let him go and took a step away.

"Enough," I said, holding out a hand to take his – he laced his fingers through mine, "We have matters to attend to."

"Matters to attend to?" he said, raising his brows and grinning down at me, "That does sound ominous."

"No," I pulled him slightly, coaxing him to a walking pace, "No, not ominous...I just wish to...to talk to you about something." He seemed to sense my sudden seriousness and he walked up beside me, falling into step with me as we walked across the grasses, our intertwined fingers swinging between us. There was silence between us, him waiting for me to speak and me not willing to say what I knew I could not hold back much longer.

The wind was warm against my skin, ruffling my hair slightly, twisting curls from my pin-up; Edward's hand was warm in mine, reassuring. I glanced around, admiring how the bright sun, high in the sky, made the world around me shine – the hills rose and fell with the wind, intensely green under the bright blue sky, trees and flowers and grass moving as one. There were next to no clouds in the sky, and it stretched all the way to the horizon, meeting in a clash of blue and green, which moved further and further away as we walked, climbing higher over the hills.

We found a suitable tree, lonely on top of the hill, and sat there together, me across his lap and my head on his chest – he played with strands of my hair as I gazed over the countryside. My home was to the south, the sun high above it, small even though we were not too far away from it; I could see the lake a little to the west, gleaming in the light – I sighed, knowing that I would have to talk soon, now that we were well and truly alone.

I had to tell him, I knew that. I had to speak my fears, for there was no way I could find a solution without his help. Only I knew it would hurt him to hear what I had to tell him, and there was no way I could hurt him without feeling terrible myself. I took a deep breath, lifting my head to look at him – he smiled down at me, his gaze warm. "Edward," I began, drawing confidence from him, "Edward, I have to tell you something."

"What is it you wish to tell me, then?" he asked, and I sighed.

"Uncle..." I supposed I should just come out with it, instead of delaying the confession further, "I think he intends for me to marry." Edward's face hardened, his eyes suddenly darkening – the clouds moved over the sun, casting us both in shadow, and I had to admire nature on its timing, "And...Edward, I think he is finding a match for me as we speak." I bit my lip, waiting for him to respond, but he did not, staring at me silently – after a minute or so, I started carefully, "Edward?" I touched his cheek, "Edward, I am only telling you this so we can be prepared...so we can find some way to stop it...Edward, please, you knew this was coming as well as I, and now we know-"

"Bella." He cut me off, his voice serious, "Bella...how do you suppose we are to stop him?"

He had me there. "Edward," I said, almost biting a hole in my lip, "Edward, I do not know, but I thought..." I fumbled, tripping over my words, feeling suddenly small and frightened; I looked down at my lap, twisting my fingers together. "I do not want to lose you, Edward."

"What can we do, Bella?" he said sadly, raising my chin to look at him, "For I cannot see any way – if we reveal ourselves, we will be torn apart...if we do not, there is no way I can stop them from taking you from me."

"Who says that they could part us if they knew?" I said to him, "Edward, it would be so much easier for us to fight them if we were together, if we were able to tell them why we could not be apart...surely they could not do anything more than disapprove of us?"

Edward shook his head, and my heart sank, knowing I was denying the truth. "Bella...your Uncle is a powerful man. I cannot bear to think what he would do – he could have me arrested, he could throw you out onto the streets...he could throw your Mother and Alice out with you. How are you supposed to support yourselves, three women alone in the world? How would I ever be able to support you, a lowly servant as I am – Jasper may have some chance of helping Alice, but there is no way his income would keep all three of you. Bella, he can take your home away, he can take your money away: he can take your family away, and I will not allow that to happen." He sighed, stroking my cheek gently, "If we were parted, at least you would still have them...and I would have my Mother and Father." He sounded uncertain as he murmured, "We...we would be alright."

"No," I said at once, throwing my arms back around him and pressing my face into his chest, "Edward, no: you know I'd die without you."

"We cannot reveal ourselves, Bella," he answered, his voice firm – I knew he was right, even though I hated that it was so. I could not force him to give up his studies, his bright future, to care for me and my family. He stroked my hair gently as he murmured, "Under no circumstances can we do that."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" I asked despairingly, "We cannot simply ignore this, Edward: he has plans for me, I know it, and I swear I will never marry anyone but you. Literally, Edward: I will never do it."

"And I would never have you do it, Bella," he smiled unhappily at me, "For how could I ever let someone take you from me?" We both sighed in unison, having gotten nowhere, still stuck with what seemed to be no way out – I settled against him again, anxiety and fear stirring in my chest, and I felt Edward shrug gently behind me. "Perhaps there could be some merit in simply waiting," he said, "We could attempt to find out how long he is willing to wait before he finds husbands for you...and most likely for Alice as well. Maybe, by then, we will have had enough time to figure out what we must do."

"Maybe we could run away," I suggested.

"Maybe," he answered ambiguously – I sighed again, lost for a solution but desperately wanting one...I hated to walk into this blind. I hated that anyone held such power over my life, and I had no way to know which way they intended for me to turn. We were in so much danger, all of us...all I could do, I supposed, was try as hard as I could to keep us all together until Edward and I could think of a way out. I told him so, and my spirits lifted as he smiled in return. "Yes," he said, "I could definitely do that."

"One thing is for sure, though," I murmured firmly, as the conversation closed and we prepared to leave, both knowing we had been gone too long to go unnoticed – I took his hand and squeezed it tight, nodding, "No matter what they do: I will never let them take you away from me."

He laughed lightly, pulling me in, pressing a kiss to my forehead – he smiled fondly down at me. "And how could they ever prevail against a force such as you?"

I grinned, "Never."

When we returned to the house, I sensed at once that something was amiss – there was the sound of shouting, and I quickly pulled my hand from Edward's, raising my brows worriedly at him as I moved to open the door. I stepped into the house, and I once I gasped in horror.

The whole place was complete carnage – I did not know how, but books were strewn everywhere, furniture toppled and lying awkwardly on the ground; there was the sound of whooping and cheering. I could hear Alice yelling, shouting for Jasper to stop someone – I found out whom quickly, when Peter and Oliver came cackling out of a hallway. They seemed to have fashioned swords out of some kind of wood, and I gasped again when I realised they were the legs of our dining room chair they were smashing against each other. Jasper and Alice appeared a few seconds later, yelling for them to stop – Alice saw us, standing there in horror, whilst Jasper attempting to wrestle the chair legs off my two cousins. "Bella!" she cried, "Bella, they have gone mad! They pushed James down the stairs!" James was our butler, strong despite his age...though I could not imagine how strong he was now.

I began to hurry up the stairs, Edward at me heels, when she started to say more, but then Jasper cried out, blood suddenly covering his hand – Alice screamed as he went down, and it was obvious Peter had hit him from the suddenly terrified look on his face. At once he fled, throwing his stick away and rushing down a corridor, Oliver quickly following; of course, with my luck, the leg came flying straight towards me and hit me in the stomach with all the force of a fist, winding me and doubling me over. I cried out in pain, collapsing on the stairs, and if it had not been for Edward I would have tumbled down them – he was shouting now too.

"Bella! Those idiots!"

"No," I coughed, as Edward bent over me, his face furious, "No, Edward, I am fine, really." But the damage was done, and when the two boys made a mistake of reappearing, now legless and attempting to feign innocence, Edward turned on them.

"Do you have any decency at all?" he shouted, anger all over his face – they shrank away as he sat me down then advanced towards them; they tried to run, but then somehow he had them by the scruff of the neck. "You stupid little boys, look what you have done! I will see you punished for this, do you hear me?"

"Edward!" I tried to shout, but I was still breathless from the hit, "Edward, please, stop it!"

"You hurt your own cousin, and you just run? Do you think that is right? Really? Do you?"

"Mama!" Peter cried out, and I winced, knowing what was coming – I stood shakily, then I hurried to Edward, pulling him away, "Mama, Mama, help us!"

"Edward," I hissed at him, pushing him back, "Edward, please, stop, Aunt will be furious...she will have Uncle punish you if she hears, please, Edward, we have to move!"

"But they hurt you!" he said to me, his eyes burning, breathing hard, "And Jasper!"

"I know, Edward, I know, but-"

"Isabella!" I froze as Aunt Theodora appeared, Peter and Oliver clutching at her skirts, at once moving to stand in front of Edward, as if I could somehow protect him – I could see that we were already doomed by the look of fury on her face. "How dare you!" she screeched, pointing imperiously at Edward, "How dare you let this...this _servant_ boy speak to my children that way!"

"Aunt," I tried to speak, "Aunt, I am sorry, but they were-"

"How dare you! Your own cousins and all! Why, I will see to it that he is flogged for this!"

"Aunt, no, please!" My stomach protested as I tensed my muscles to shout, and I hissed in pain – I felt Edward tense behind me as tears sprang to my eyes, and I knew what would come as my Aunt shouted:

"Stop pretending to be wounded, Isabella – my boys would never hurt a fly!"

"What?!" Edward shouted, starting forward even as I attempted to hold him back, "Look, you bigoted woman, can you not see what they have done?" He gestured to Jasper, "Jasper is bleeding because of them! They hit him in the head!"

"How dare you even speak to me, you worthless boy!" she shouted back, "And how dare you blame them for that other boy's idiocy! I will have you thrown out on the streets, mark my words, my husband is the head of this family, and you are nothing! Quite obviously you need some sort of punishment to show you who really is in charge here!"

"You are not in charge here! This is our house, not yours!" Alice shouted, coming forward now to stand behind Edward, and Aunt shrieked, raising a hand as if to slap her.

"How dare you...you...you ungrateful little louse!" She grabbed her arm, pulling Alice away from us, and slapped her across the face – as the sharp smack echoed through the suddenly silent hallway I gasped, my temper rising at once: any calm I might have had at once disappeared, replaced by pure fury. My heart was beating fast, heat pulsing through my veins: no one touched my little sister, not unless they wanted me to harm them grievously.

"Get away from my sister, you witch!" I shouted, breaking the shocked silence and seeing red, starting forward and pulling Alice away, throwing myself in front of her, "How dare you even touch her!"

"Why you-" She raised her hand as if to strike me too, but then a clear voice rang out, stopping us all where we stood.

"Theodora!" Mama appeared then, shocking us all as she stormed down from behind Aunt, moving to stand in front of us and pushing us both behind her, "Hold your hand, I say!" Her stance was firm, her hands balled into fists, the expression of fury on her face, I could imagine, perfectly matching mine. "What is this?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm – when Aunt said nothing, only stepping back, she repeated her question. "Theodora, answer me: why did you strike my child?"

Aunt was quite obviously taken aback by Mama's sudden appearance, as she began to stutter, the ferocity falling from her face. "Renee...Renee, I was simply-"

"You would do well to go now, Theodora," Mama said, her voice stiff and firm, "And, if you please, remember: even though my husband may be gone, this is still my house." She sniffed, "Charles loved us enough to leave us that, even though you would wish to take everything else away. Now leave." They scuttled off at once at her words, almost like rats to the gutter, and when Mama turned Alice and I threw our arms around her.

"Mama!" Alice was crying, obviously shaken, whilst I was just so happy to see her that nothing could have made me let go of her; I had my arms tight about her neck, my face pressed into her warm, familiar shoulder.

"Calm, girls, please," she said, gently extricating herself with a bright smile, though a shadow of its former self, "Please, remember yourselves." Mama put her hand to Alice's cheek, "Alice, are you alright?"

"Yes, Mama," she sniffed, smiling – I sighed, relieved to see that she was unharmed, and it seemed Mama was too.

"Good," she said, before she sighed and pulled us both into another hug; I gratefully accepted her embrace, finally feeling as if the weight had been taken off my shoulders, that she could somehow fix all that had been going on. She was my Mama, after all: she had always been there to look after me. "Oh, girls," she sighed, sounding sadder than she had ever been before, "How on earth did we come to this?"

"We will be alright, Mama," Alice said, her head resting on Mama's shoulder – I nodded, even though I myself was not too sure.

"Definitely, Mama," I agreed out loud, though still I could not help but worry. Mama smiled at us both, pushing Alice's now tousled curls away from her face, her gaze on the both of us fond.

"Well now," she said, suddenly back to her business-like self, "Look at this mess." It was true: there were pages of books and ruined furniture strewn across the floor, dotted by Jasper's blood – he was standing now, looking rather disgruntled, the sleeve of Edward's shirt tied around his head. Edward looked just as irritated, though, I was sure, for a different reason. They both nodded at Mama as she turned to them, and she shook her head, "Boys, what am I to do with you? You, especially Edward: I would not allow any child of mine to shout at an elder that way," he looked sheepish, and I bit my lip, wondering for a second if Mama intended to punish him – but, of course, she did not. "Of course, I am grateful you saw fit to attempt to protect these two...and I apologise, Jasper, for your injury." Jasper mumbled something worriedly incoherent, and Mama at once sent Alice off with him – she never missed a trick, my Mama. It was perfectly obvious Alice was itching to kiss him better – a slightly repulsive image though that was – and she hurried off with hardly a glance behind her.

I was reprimanding Edward for his brashness – he was in the midst of apologising and promising he would never do it again when Mama claimed my attention.

"Bella, dear," she asked me, and when I turned to her I found her expression to be suddenly worried, "I must ask you...did Marcus take any papers from Papa's desk?"

"Yes," I said to her, knowing full well why she was worried, "He left only just this morning."

She ran a small hand over her face, rubbing her tired eyes, "Well, we shall probably expect him back any day now. I suppose I should start gathering what I can..."

"Mama?" I asked her, biting my lip, "What is Uncle Marcus going to do to us?"

She sighed, "Nothing he did not always intend to."

My fears were confirmed by the weariness on her face, "So should I start packing?"

"Yes, darling," she nodded sadly, taking my hand and squeezing it in her cool grasp, "I believe you should."

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	17. Moving Day

**I know, I know, it's been a while....but this one is long, and stuff happens, so forgive me :D**

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"Be careful with that!" Mama shouted urgently, even as one of our blue chiffon sofas grazed the marble banister – the men carrying it grunted and shifted the beautiful piece of furniture carelessly on their shoulders, bouncing down the stairs with it; Mama sighed, closing her eyes and looking pained before she turned to me, standing next to her with Edward at my side, who was watching quietly. Now that it was obvious to us that most everyone in our household knew of our feelings for each other, or at least suspected of such, he never strayed from me if he could help it – even now his hand was on my waist, light but constant...though it was a little irritating at times, I was still glad of his presence.

"Are you packed, Bella?" she asked me, and I nodded. "All your clothes, everything that you wish to bring with you from your bedroom?"

"My quilt is folded at the top of my trunk, Mama...though I did not see fit to attempt to pack my bed in there, since we are not leaving here for good." I could not see how, though, since Uncle had also ordered we bring the whole household with us to Hertfordshire.

"True," she answered, nodding at me before resting her elbows on the banister, her jaw set and her mouth a grim slash. "This will not be a permanent situation," she murmured, her voice determined and somewhat deadly, "Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Then why are they taking some of the furniture?" I asked her, and she sighed again, running a hand through her hair.

"I have seen the quarters he has given us," she replied, the anxiety in her face not completely hidden, "They are grim, to say the least. At least this way, we will be bringing some of our home with us," she smiled slightly, "Besides: I do not want them to be left here for the mice to prey on."

"Actually," Edward murmured, obviously seeing his parents at the base of the staircase, "I should really go and check that Father has everything he needs." He smiled wryly, more to himself than me, "His memory is going these days." He gave my hand a squeeze before hurrying away down the steps – I blushed as Mama raised a brow at me, her blue gaze slightly amused, too knowledgeable for my liking.

"He is a wonderful young man, is he not?" she observed to me; I nodded silently, a little too uncomfortable to respond – we had never spoken of the relationship between Edward and I aloud, so I did not really know how much she knew about us. That said: I did not want to tell her, only to find out that she disapproved...that could be disastrous, for how could I choose between Edward and my family?

I did not want to think about whom I would choose, as I was afraid it would be him.

"He respects you, Mama," I said evasively, trying to distract her, "He always has. You have treated him and his family so well...I hope Uncle does the same for him." I was worried I had gone too far in expressing that certain fear, but luckily Mama did not seem to hold too much thought to it.

"Indeed...I hope that too. I have found a great friend in Elizabeth, as you have in Edward." I nodded my head in affirmation, not looking at her and not speaking, afraid of what my voice might divulge to her – thankfully, our conversation was cut short by a call from the coachman, John, and I breathed out thankfully as she turned her attention away from me.

"My lady!" he cried, "We are about ready to leave, if it pleases you!"

"Of course," she called back, polite and almost regal, as always, "Thank you, John." He nodded and disappeared through the front door – Mama sighed and turned to me, her blue eyes solemn, "Go, Bella. You may travel in the coach with Edward, if you wish, just please bring Alice with you if you do."

My heart lightened considerably, though I tried not to show it. "Thank you, Mama," I said, and I moved forward and kissed her cheek before I began to make my way down the stairs, "But what about you?"

"I will ride up top with John," she said, smiling, "Someone must over see it all."

"But Uncle-"

"He will have to live with my decision."

Edward chuckled as he helped me up into the carriage, seeing Mama alight behind the horses. "Your Mama certainly is trying to make life hard for your Uncle," he observed – I leaned back to follow his gaze, biting my lip anxiously.

"She is being rather reckless...I can only assume we will all have to move coaches tomorrow, even Mama knows Uncle will not allow it." I sighed, "Whilst there is something to be said for rebellion, it will not get us anywhere."

"True," Edward agreed quietly, sounding uninterested.

"What if someone sees you, Alice, Jasper and I in this coach?" I carried on, "What if they assume something?"

"Bella," Edward smiled gently, "Get in and stop worrying. Please. I'm sure the Lady Swan is much more experienced in these matters than you are."

"There is something to be said for being careful," I muttered darkly as I let him push me into the cab, sitting heavily down on the soft, black cushioned seat – Alice grinned at me from the other side, her face darkened in shadow but her smile still bright; Jasper had one arm around her, unembarrassed, it seemed. Edward jumped in beside me and closed the door with a sharp snap, arm sliding behind me to sit on my waist in the same moment, before he hit the side of the carriage with his fist and yelled, the sound merely a sound, not a word. I sighed and sat back, resigned to my dull fate as we all went trundling off, bouncing here and there, my head hitting the back of the seat every now and again.

The journey was uneventful – I did not feel like interacting much with anyone, so I sat, watching the world roll by as Alice, Edward and Jasper chatted, their words becoming a senseless jumble, unintelligible as I stopped concentrating on them.

Fields, hills, meadows of waving daffodils and forests made up of ancient, towering trees passed me by, all green and yellow, bathing in the sunlight. I watched the light wink across lakes and rivers, occasionally wiping my damp hand on my skirt where sweat had sprung up from how my chin had been resting on my palm. The road was dusty in the heat, then rough and uneven as we drove through a canopy of oak trees, spreading their branches in a bridge above us, light casting strange shadows on the ground where it shone through the gaps in the mighty beams. The ground rose up and down, colours shifting and changing as the sun moved across the sky – there was not a cloud in sight, the sky a perfect shade of blue, the sun punching a bright hole, ragged edges flecked with yellow and gold. We stopped in a small town for lunch, and the heat was almost unbearable as I exited the cool, shadowed coach, the lack of a cooling breeze only making it worse.

Alice was distracted by ribbons, Jasper by large and heavy books, Edward and I by a small stray dog that yapped at our feet and begged to be fed – it was some kind of terrier, eyes bordered by thick, serious eyebrows, his fur curly white and fluffy, and we could hardly resist following as he lead us to a stream and splashed us with his tiny paws. Mama did not call us back until the sun was low in the sky, quite obviously attempting to delay our arrival at Uncle's, and we were all quite alright with it.

"Bella," Alice drew me aside as we bought rooms for the night in a quaint little tavern, all rustic, great, thick beams of wood adorning the ceiling, growing down to the floor as trunks in a forest – I raised a brow at her, suspecting of the look in her eyes.

"Alice," she was thinking of trouble, and I knew it, "What do you want from me?"

She smiled a little, "Do you think it would be too scandalous if we," she shrugged gently, the lace shoulders of her dress folding as she moved, "Swapped rooms for the night?"

"Alice," I gasped, even though it sounded like a bloody good idea, "We could not possibly!"

We swapped rooms for the night. It was not a cool evening, but Edward's kisses on my neck were worth the heat.

It took until lunchtime the next day for us all to set off again, Mama insisting we all get enough rest – when we did all manage to clamber back inside the carriage and even cross the border into Hertfordshire, the sun was already a blazing fire in the sky, setting everything alight as it clawed its way toward the horizon, leaving devastation in its wake. We reached the massive house as darkness was falling, and it looked almost gray in the twilight-dark, windows barred with curtains, rectangular and looming, the sharp corners of the place setting strange shadows on the ground. Edward shivered from beside me, "It reminds me of some kind of asylum," he said quietly to me, some sort of dread in his voice, and I murmured my assent.

"It is always worse in the dark."

"Renee!" Uncle greeted us, booming from the doorway as we all climbed wearily down the carriage steps – I tripped, falling into Edward's arms, blushing wildly as Mama's light eyebrows disappeared into her hair. I quickly extricated myself, brushing back my damp hair and moving a safe distance away, feet crunching on the ground; Uncle only smiled, "And Alice and Bella too: how lovely to see you all!"

"Lovely to see you too, Uncle," Alice and I murmured unenthusiastically, our words sounding rather rehearsed as we said them at the same time – she took my hand as we were led inside, squeezing it tight through her thin summer gloves. The night was cooler than it had been before, but the house was just as cold and unwelcoming as it had been on our last visit. I glanced around the entrance hall, the ceiling tall, paintings towering so high above us that I could hardly make out the cherubs and the angels dancing across it – rather ironic characters, it seemed to me. The place had a red and brown motif, dark, bloody furniture adorning the walls, scenes of death and glory painted across the framed canvases above them. A double staircase sat obstinately at the end of the room, corridors leading off from left to right at the top – whilst we were led up them, the rest of our ragged band continued through a door under the right staircase; I watched, biting my lip as Edward went with them, descending into the darkness, his bronze hair disappearing as he went. I hardly dared to speak, the atmosphere tense, the silence unforgiving, so instead I shared a worried gaze with Alice before shaking the matter from my mind, determined to return to it soon.

The colours shifted from red to blue before I realised where we were going – Alice and I were led into our usual room, and then left to our own devices as suddenly as we had arrived. I sat down heavily on the soft and heavy bedclothes, feeling rather lost; Alice only shrugged before lying down on the second bed, turning onto her side and closing her eyes, sighing. "You may as well get comfortable," she said to me, her voice thick, "We are not going to be leaving this room until tomorrow."

I lay down too, but I barely slept. Alice did not seem to want to be talked to, I was too anxious and wound up inside to sleep myself, so I contended myself with staring blankly at the canopy above my bed, studying its rises and falls until I fell into a restless sleep, brought on only by complete exhaustion. I slept all the way until noon the next day, woken by the warmth as the sun streamed through the curtains – Alice lay, unmoving, and when no one bothered us I contented myself with unpacking my newly arrived trunk, not wanting to leave the room for some odd reason that I could not particularly put my finger on. Eventually we were summoned for dinner, and Alice and I dressed, me without looking at what I was putting on – we went to the dining room, sat down in the chairs that were pulled out for us, and watched as it filled with people, all who seemed to have been here every single night for as long as they could remember.

Chatter began, and as no food appeared and Alice and I grew rather bored, we both began to eavesdrop on the conversation between Mama and Uncle, sitting only a few seats down the table.

"Now, Renee, onto business," Mama sat still and silent, her face carefully indifferent as Uncle carried on, "You know I cannot condone any longer the public relationships you have with your servants, you and the girls: it is undignified, the privileges that you give them, and I will not let it go on anymore." Alice and I glanced at each other with dread, but Mama did not even try contest it. This, and one look at Alice's forlorn expression, told me that none of us had any say in any matters whatsoever anymore. We were in our Uncle's house – we, and the rest of the family we had brought with us, were bound by his rules.

I sat and listened in quiet disgust, attempting to keep my features blank whilst a beast raged inside me, as Uncle relayed to Mama what he wished to do with all those wonderful people I had grown up with. All but our closest maids were to be sent away, and those who stayed had been allocated to Alice and myself, whilst Elizabeth, Edward's mother, was relieved of her duty of tutoring us to instead wait on my Mother. It was terrible, especially since Alice and I were now to have only hourly lessons with our cousins: when we were told that we were to spend much of the rest of the day with our Aunt, learning the rules of etiquette and the like, I almost cried out, it was so horrible.

It could only get worse, and it did. Edward senior, who was the most wonderful and experienced gardener, was named as an apprentice to Uncle's; our cooks were put in the same position, the footman was resigned, as was our old housekeeper. When he came to Jasper, poor, orphaned, sweet Jasper, who Alice loved so much, and he nonchalantly told us he had been given a place at the local blacksmith, it was too much. Jasper, who was brilliantly clever, saving up for a place in a law school in London, being carelessly sent to a blacksmith which was nothing less than the opposite of his calling...it was absolutely terrible. I could not help but gasp and press my hands to my mouth in horror, and Alice stood at once and ran out of the room. I was about to follow the sound of her tears when something stopped me dead in my tracks.

"And the boy, Edward Masen," I stiffened and twisted in my seat, staring at my Uncle even though he was looking at Mama, "I have found a place for him too." My heart began to race as I waited for his verdict "As he has no talent that I can see...no skill or occupation...well," my Uncle grinned, and the smile, certainly to me, seemed twisted and filled with hatred and wickedness, "We needed a new grunt boy."

I could not help but intercede then, to try and aid my Edward's fortunes in any way I could. "He is musical," I burst out, knowing my Uncle severely disliked me talking without his permission, especially since I was most likely not supposed to be listening, but I was unable to stop myself, "Edward he...he plays piano almost angelically, Uncle. Perhaps that could be of...of some use to you?" I attempted not to sound pleading, not wishing to give myself away, and he chuckled gently, seeming pleased.

"What a sharp mind you have, dearest niece – an excellent idea." He nodded to me, but I was unable to breathe a sigh of relief alongside his next words. "Between you and me, Renee," he leaned into my Mama, who leaned away imperceptibly – my insides froze, my heart going cold as I heard him murmur, "Jane seems quite taken with him. She begged me that he should stay on in some way...of course she is too fanciful, I would never allow it, but still...young girls need some enjoyment in life, do they not?" He laughed then, and Mama laughed gently with him, her face still quiet, whilst I looked on in horror.

It was then that I realised just how terrible and twisted this world was.

There was no time to find Edward after that, even though I desperately wished to know whether he was alright, what had happened to him, what he was being forced to do...I was sure there was something I could do, as my Uncle's favourite niece...if I could only find him. As fate would have it, never in my favour, the next time I saw him was at dinner, when I was seated in a chair and faced with endless amounts of cutlery and chatter. Alice sat beside me, my hand tight in hers and her eyes red from obvious crying. We sat in silence amongst the rest of the guests, even though they were all eying us curiously, quite obviously wishing to know more about us. I kept my eyes on the table, only speaking to Alice – and even those conversations were brief – until a familiar hand placed a bowl of soup in front of me. I gasped, unable to stop myself, looking up to find him there, the apron that was suddenly around his waist stained and grubby. His pristine regular clothes of leather trousers and his green waistcoat was gone, replaced instead with a tough-looking white shirt and thin cotton trousers, shiny black shoes and a cravat that I could almost feel was strangling him. It was obvious someone had taken a pair of scissors to his unruly hair: it was short and neat...the suddenly beaten-down look of him had me holding back tears. I pressed my fingers to my mouth as I caught his gaze in mine, and Alice squeezed my hand as he moved on, his eyes fleeting; I looked back down at the table and did not raise my gaze again until dinner was over and he was just disappearing through the kitchen door, empty plates stacked in his soft hands.

"Bella," Alice whispered to me, pity in her voice as everyone began to file away, the men for drinks and the women for gossip – I felt as if I were burning as I raised my head to look at her, unquenchable anger at his treatment almost making me tremble.

"I will kill him," I said to her, "I swear to God above, Alice, I will murder that man. How dare he," my voice began to break, cracks of sorrow showing through my hatred, "How dare he to that to him!" I felt enraged, furious, as if I were a mother lion and someone had just harmed one of my cubs....Edward was not my child, far from it, but I still felt the same sense of absolute, unadulterated rage.

"Hateful," Alice murmured, "A hateful, hateful man."

"And Mama, she just let it happen!" I shook my head, attempting to restrain my voice, not wishing to attract attention and yet wishing to scream and yell at the unfairness of it all. "She sat there and let him do that to the boy she has known and cared for since he was seven! And Elizabeth and his father too, and Jasper...oh, it is awful! Simply awful, Alice!"

"What can we do?" she said, "Bella, there is nothing, nothing at all – Uncle can do as he wishes, with us and them. Mama knows this, and it will do us no good to contest him."

"There must be a way," I said desperately, "Alice, there must be...he cannot be allowed to treat us this way!"

"He is treating us perfectly well," she said, her voice low and sad, "But not those we care about, for he does not care about them. There is no way we ourselves can contest him...it would be shooting ourselves in the foot, fighting him now."

"I want to leave," I balled my fists on the table, twisting the cloth in between my fingers, "Alice, I want to go home."

"I know," she said, sighing, "I know." I shook my head, pressing my eyes shut tight in an attempt to stop the tears that were welling up as I remembered how Edward had looked – Alice patted my back gently as I swallowed the lump in my throat then stood, the chair silently sliding backwards on the soft carpet.

"I must find him," I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, sniffing, "I have to make sure he is alright."

"Bella," Alice held me back for a second, "Bella, please do not go and worry Mama about this – there is nothing we can do. Nor Uncle, Bella, do you hear me?" I bit my lip, eying her warily, wondering if she could be wrong, and she sighed. "Bella, promise me you will not?"

I nodded silently, then turned my back on her and left, musing on the matter even though she had told me not to. There must be some merit in it, mustn't there? If I promised Uncle....I sighed, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose, knowing there was nothing Uncle wanted from me that I would be willing to give. What he wanted was quite obvious: my marriage to a wealthy young man, as had become very apparent in the sheer number of high-society gatherings in mine and Alice's honour.

Besides: my pleading on Edward's behalf would only reveal us. And that could not, not under any circumstances, happen.

It seemed there was no way out, and yet I was still determined to, in some way, alleviate Edward's suffering. There was also Jasper to think about, but that was far more complicated, and would require much more thought.

I slipped through the door to the servant's quarters, heading down the stairs into the basement of the house, assuming that was where Edward and his family had been housed, and at once I gasped in horror, my hand going to my mouth. The place was appalling, absolutely appalling – at once I lost any dredge of respect or love I might have had left for my Uncle, and it was replaced by a bitter hatred. The corridors were narrow and grimy, darkness and damp hiding in every crack; the atmosphere was such that all I wanted to do was turn around and run away. I steeled myself and made to step forward, only to press back into the shadow of the staircase as a pair of maids, chatting nonchalantly with their hair swinging about their necks clattered down the stairs. About halfway down they opened a door and disappeared, and I pressed a hand to soothe my racing heart before moving after them.

I was quite ready to burst into tears – in fact, my cheeks were already wet from a few that I had not been able to keep back – at the terrible conditions these people were left to live in...and under my own feet besides. At how while Edward and his family were treated perfectly well last time they were here, that was all just a facade: here was where my Uncle believed they truly belonged...in the depths of hell, it seemed to me. I was feeling fragile enough at the loss of my home, still tender from Papa's death, and I could not imagine a world where this could be allowed to happen, and yet it did...by the time I found Edward's door, seeing the word _Masen_ scrawled clumsily upon the dirty wood, the lump in my throat was so big I could hardly speak. And the sight of him as he opened the door, even though he was dressed back in his normal clothes, I was unable to stop the choked sob that erupted from my mouth.

"Bella?" I shook my head, pressing my lips together and stepping forward, wrapping my arms around his chest, starting to cry into his chest. "Oh, Bells..." I heard him murmur as he pulled me inside, the door closing behind us with a sharp click. He sat me down somewhere – I was crying too hard to notice my surroundings, and he rocked me, gently stroking my hair as he murmured, "Shh, Bella, shh..." After a minute or so I remembered that it was he who had been hurt, and I raised my head, intending to calm myself, only to start again when I saw the state of him. "Bella?" Edward wiped my cheek, "Bella, what is the matter?"

"I hate," I stumbled, my voice cracking in between the lines, "I hate..." When I could not get it out past the sobs, after a few tries more, I cried out in exasperation, "Oh, look what they have done to you!"

"Bella!" he seemed surprised as I sobbed even harder, suddenly unable to control myself – I heard him sigh in exasperation, "Bella, please, come now...shhhh." He held me, quietly whispering nonsense at me, his voice enough to calm me down, and eventually I was able to control myself; I was rather ashamed. Nowadays, it seemed, I could hardly go more than a few hours without bursting into tears over something.

"I am sorry," I murmured abashedly, ducking my head as he wiped the last of the tears from my cheeks, and he sighed gently.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

I raised my head to smile at him, but the smile quickly faded as I reached out and touched his cropped locks. "I hate this," I murmured sadly, playing with his woefully shortened hair, dragging my fingers through it in an attempt to bring back its usual untidiness – he chuckled gently.

"It will grow back, Bella."

"I hate that they cut it off in the first place," I said, giving up and resting my head on his instead; I sighed, "I hate that they tried to change you into...into..." I could not even speak the word, and Edward understood.

"I know," he sighed too, his head on my shoulder and his fingers playing with the material of my skirt, "I know." I breathed in his comforting scent and closed my eyes, attempting to relax in his embrace, both of us lapsing into silence. Elizabeth bustled into the room then, her bronze hair tumbling around her cheeks instead of piled up on her head – she did not seem surprised in the least at how I was seated on Edward's lap, and I did not expect her to be.

"Good evening, sweetheart," she said to him, reaching out and tapping her fingers against the base of his jaw fondly – I lifted my head and smiled back at her as she greeted me too, withdrawing my arms from around her son for the sake of common courtesy, feeling a little embarrassed. Edward chuckled and pulled me back.

"She does not mind, Bella," he said, and Elizabeth laughed from the other side of the room.

"No, my boy, Bella is right: that is definitely not behaviour for company such as myself."

I nodded, moving to stand, feeling as if I should be assisting Elizabeth in some way, but Edward had other ideas. He tugged me back onto his knees, wrapping his arms around me so I could not escape – Elizabeth rolled her eyes as I blushed furiously. "Honestly, Edward," she muttered, and Edward chuckled.

"I have no hair, Mother – at least give me some sympathy."

Elizabeth's expression darkened at once, and I guessed that she was just as furious about the whole matter as I was. "I know, dear," she said, her green eyes blazing, "And I am definitely going to take that up with somebody...that they could do that to my child..."

Edward glanced at me bewilderedly as she moved out of the room again, "It is just hair," he said to me again, "It will grow back...I do not understand why you are both so incensed by this."

"It is not so much that," I told him, understanding completely how Elizabeth felt – I supposed it was because we loved him, and we had both sworn to ourselves that we would protect him in any way we could, Elizabeth as a mother and me...well, I loved him enough. "Edward," I attempted to explain, "What they did to you today...they were attempting to mould you into something that you should never be. Waiting tables, cleaning...serving food to guests and never speaking unless when spoken to...it is a complete travesty, because Edward, you are far too _good _for that." He watched me quietly, not speaking a word as I spoke, and I took that as him trying to understand. I sighed, picking up one of his hands and playing with his fingers, "You do not belong in this world, Edward. You do not deserve to be treated this way, because you are better than all of them."

"How?" Edward asked quietly then – I glanced up at him to find him staring across my shoulder in turn. I put out a hand, touched his cheek, bringing him back into contact with my gaze; he sighed, "Bella, how could I be better?"

"You are," I told him, "Edward, you are. You are good, and kind – you are selfless, and understanding...you look after your family so well, and you never think of yourself before anyone else." I sighed, "I _love _you, Edward, so much: how could I bear to see them treat you this way? You are better than them," I nodded, suddenly feeling fiercely protective of him, "You are so much better...I do not know how they could even dare to do this to you."

"How dare they indeed," Elizabeth muttered from the other room, and I blushed a little as she realised that she had heard exactly what I said – Edward was not so preoccupied, his eyes instead completely focused on me.

"I love you too, Bella," he said to me, his face sombre and grim, "Which is why I will let them do anything, _be _anything, just so they do not send me away because they have no use for me."

"I told Uncle you were musical, you know," I said to him, smiling a little as I drew my hands through his hair – at least it was still soft, still that beautiful colour bronze - and he smiled too.

"Did you now?"

I made a sound of assent, "I told him you played," I mimicked the voice I had used then, "Almost angelically." I laughed a little, "I think he seemed interested by that."

"I hope so," he chuckled too, "I do so hate cleaning plates." When he saw sudden look of fury on my face, he bit his lip, "Oh...is it too early for me to joke about this?" I shook my head stiffly, and he sighed, picking up my hand and squeezing it tight, "Really, Bella, I do not mind: it is just washing, after all."

"If I hear even word cruel word," I vowed, "If I see any mark on you at all...I swear I will murder him."

"Now," Edward raised his brows, "Bella, this is no time to be rash."

"Oh, I am not being rash," I assured him grimly, "I am deadly serious."

He sighed, rolling his eyes but giving up – he settled me more comfortably on his lap. "So," he said, voice more conversational now, "How was your day?"

"Horrible," I sighed at once, with a groan of disgust, "This house is horrible, my Uncle is horrible, I feel horrible...oh, and apparently Jane made a personal request that you should stay," I made a face, "That is horrible too."

"Oh," there was humour in his voice now, which I definitely had not expected – I looked up to find him almost grinning at me. "Well," he said, his eyes sparkling at me, "I do believe someone is a little jealous."

"Edward," I attempted to be offended, "That is completely inappropriate, you know this is a very serious matter."

"Jealous."

"Edward! I am not jealous!" He laughed, and I muttered, "You are so immature..."

"Immature? Me?" he scoffed, laughing more, and then he pulled me close, pressing his lips gently to the hollow between my collar bones – I gasped in both surprise and at the warmth that shot through me, and he whispered, "Admit it. You are seething with jealousy," I shivered slightly against the friction of his lips on my skin, "It would make poor, hairless me feel infinitely better if you did..."

"Edward," I murmured, blushing despite myself and pushing him away, "Edward, please..."

"You do not need to be embarrassed," he smiled at me, reaching out almost absentmindedly, it seemed, to push my hair back from my face, coaxing me out from underneath it, "I love you even more because of it." I smiled back at him, and he leaned in – then the silence was shattered by Elizabeth, who shouted from the other room:

"Edward! Do you wish for me to wash your coat?"

Edward himself winced, and I giggled – he looked disgruntled as he called back, "Yes, Mother, thank you!"

"There is no need to be snarky, Edward!"

He groaned, "Mother, please!"

I laughed, stopping his annoyed scowl with a quick kiss before I hopped off his lap. "Well," I said, sighing and ruffling his hair, "I must leave, before they start to wonder where I have gone."

He caught my hand and pressed it to his lips. "Must you?" he asked me, his voice suddenly gloomy – but I nodded, moving my fingers from his grasp and caressing his cheek fondly, enjoying the warmth of his skin under mine.

"Yes...remember, we must be even more careful here than we have ever been. That means no sleeping in my bed, I am afraid." We both sighed at this – I knew I had become too accustomed to his presence beside me these past few weeks, and I hated to go back to being without him: the sight of a drowsy Edward, his bronze hair shining in the morning sun and his green eyes swimming and glazed over with sleep was nothing less than fallen-godlike. "My Uncle is watching my every move," I carried on, "And I would so hate it if they led them to you."

"We will not be here for long, Bella," he said, attempting to reassure me – I sighed, leaning in to press one more kiss to his forehead before stepping back.

"I hope so," I said, before I made for the door – when my hand touched the cold doorknob I turned, remembering something that I had forgotten. "I love you," I called to him, trying to coax the sadness from his face with the words, words that I found then I had not said in far too long; he smiled, and my heart lifted.

"I love you too." The words filled me, gave me strength and hope – I could never be disheartened, not when he was there. I blew him a kiss before closing the door, though pulling away from him had never been so hard. I sighed, wondering when I had become so dependent on him as I crept back through the darkened halls – one creaky step had my heart racing, but no one came looking. I peeped my head through the beaten wooden door, the dark halls seeming ever more menacing and cold than they had before; I suddenly regretted my decision, the emptiness and the unforgiving-ness of the place making me nothing less than unwilling to even attempt to sleep in its belly that night. At once I retreated, backing down the stairs, almost tumbling down them in my haste, monsters and shadows suddenly lunging at me, daring me to stay – but stay I did not. I ran straight back to him, opening up the door and breathing to his surprised form.

"Alright," I said, "Alright, I will stay...you persuaded me."

"Did I?" he chuckled – he was leaning back against what I assumed was his bedroom door, foot kicked up and arms crossed over his chest, as if he had expected my return. Being Edward, and knowing me so well, it was quite likely that he had. Still, he opened his arms and I ran straight to him, wrapping myself in his embrace as the sky did the sun, breathing him in, the scent of him settling my racing heart, loosening the tense knot in my abdomen. "What of your Uncle?" he asked me, and I shrugged gently, the problem seeming inconsequential in that moment.

"One last night," I replied, sighing against his chest, "Then I may be able to give you up."

He sighed too, and I could easily imagine that he hated our situation as much as I did. "Come," he murmured, his hand gripping my waist gently, "At the very least, we should attempt to enjoy it as much as possible." My heart stirred at the many possibilities held in his words as I followed him inside – the room was as dingy and cold as anywhere on this floor, but, as I observed as Edward sat me on the bed, follow suit beside me: at least it was clean. "It is not much," Edward said quietly, almost echoing my thoughts, "Less than I should be able to give you, but-"

"Edward." I silenced his words with a short smile, "I do not mind at all. It is much better than that cold room upstairs, no matter how comfortable it may be." I bounced gently on the bed, trying to make him smile, "I could make my home anywhere, as long as you were there."

"I love you so much, you know that?" was all he said in reply, and my heart swelled – it was rather unbelievable, how much I loved this boy in front of me. Unbelievable, wonderful...almost impossible.

And yet here we were.

I kissed him gently when he pulled me to him, wrapped my arms around him and savoured him, knowing I would be seeing him much less from now on. There in his arms, his warm lips on mine and his comforting presence around me, nothing seemed wrong in the world – I could not care less about how we were slowly being pulled apart, nor how far away from each other we would soon be, nor about the future...everything seemed wonderfully _now_ with him. He pulled away, his eyes slightly unfocused, his cropped hair rumpled and his skin winking slightly in the candlelight – Edward smiled at me, his lips curving crookedly to one side, skin crinkling, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Goodnight, Bella," he whispered, tucking me to his chest, keeping me warm – he fell asleep quickly, and I permitted myself one brush of his soft hair before I closed my eyes too.

"Goodnight, Edward."

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	18. Discovered

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The next few weeks were, unarguably, the worst of my life.

Edward became more of a dream to me than a real person, a fantasy – I hardly saw him, and since that second night we had spent together I had not slept in his bed since. My world was filled with social events, mind-numbing etiquette lessons, trips to the town in the blazing heat with my unbearably dull cousins, and, of course, many many suitors. Uncle kept such a close eye on us all, from when we rose in the morning to when we shut our eyes to sleep at night, that I never found the chance to sneak away. Every time I tried, even in the dead of night, something or someone always stopped me.

There had been glimpses of him in corridors, at breakfast and lunch sometimes – his hair was slowly growing back, and I had only managed to touch him once, in this whole time we had been here: even that had been a quick affair in a rarely deserted corridor.

I was so sure I was losing my mind, missing Edward and feeling so hemmed in by the place, that after I was set upon by a particularly enthusiastic young man I practically begged Mama to do something about it. "Mama, I am going to go insane, truly," I told her, "I cannot handle it much longer."

"Oh, Bella," Mama sighed, and I hated the resigned tone of her voice, "Bella, what can I do?"

"Please, Mama," I said to her, wrapping my arms around her waist like a small child and hugging myself to her, pressing my cheek to her warm chest, feeling intensely comforted by her solidness, "Please."

There was a shouting match between my Uncle and my Mama that night, and Jane slid some snide comments across the dinner table about how ungrateful we all were – but, finally, in exchange that Alice and I would promise to spend more time thinking about the men we had met, we were released from our etiquette lessons. Alice, more grown up than she had ever been nowadays, even though she was only fifteen, ran straight off to town accompanied by Edward senior, who kindly volunteered to look after her as she visited Jasper. "Go and say good morning to Edward, would you?" he said to me, his smile the brightest I had seen in a long while, warming me inside, "He needs some younger company – he has been going crazy, with only us to amuse him."

I nodded, smiling back at him and moving to push open the door to the servants' quarters as it swung to a close behind him, but a voice from the top of the stairs stopped me. "Isabella!" Uncle called, and my heart fluttered a little as I moved back to look at him – I glanced down, fear rising in me as there was no one around to help me if he was somehow angry.

"Yes, Uncle," I stammered, keeping my gaze on the ground.

"Your musical friend," his words had me looking up at him again, interest spiking in me, "Go and fetch him, Isabella – I wish to hear how talented this boy is. Have him meet me in the music room." It was hardly a music room: it contained an old, beaten up piano, weary and broken from years of misuse by my cousins...but I supposed it was good enough to serve both his and my purpose. Edward would still not be happy: he hated seeing his childhood love in bad condition.

I hid my smile as I curtseyed: this was exactly what I had been hoping for. A plan had been formulating in my mind these past few weeks, as I saw and experienced just how determined my Uncle was to make advantageous marriages out of Alice and I – and I was just as determined to escape them. "Yes, Uncle."

"Oh, and Isabella," his expression was serious, darkness burning under the surface, "I have arranged a luncheon with his Grace Henry Delaunay next week – you will be there to speak with him, and I also wish for you to go and talk with your Aunt in the near future. There are matters we both must discuss with you."

My smile was gone, replaced by a grimace as I curtseyed again, "Yes, Uncle." I hurried away before he could say anymore, pushing through the servants' door and moving quickly down the cold steps – the cold September sunshine made this place look less daunting and horrifying than the last time I had been here, but I had no time to stop and admire. Running straight to Edward's door, I knocked gently. "Edward?" I asked quietly, "Edward, it is me, Bella."

The door was flung open and at once I was in his arms – I laughed as he dragged me inside then spun me around, slamming the door shut behind us before folding me close to him. I found myself pressed into his shirt, and I breathed in appreciatively: he smelled of sunshine and dust, as well as a little of washing powder. "Where on earth have you been?" he asked me, pulling back and holding the tops of my arms tight, annoyance all across his features; I smiled and shrugged.

"About." When that did not seem enough for him, his brow crinkled in adorable frustration, I laughed, "Oh, Edward, come now: I have been trying for weeks to come down here – ironically, it Uncle who sent me to fetch you." His interest was piqued; he let me go, and I brushed myself down, tutting at the long, dark finger-marks on my sleeves. "Honestly, Edward," I muttered, "Where on earth have _you_ been?"

"Oh," he seemed to realise the state of his hands, and he moved to wipe them down on a stray cloth, "Forgive me: I was sweeping out fireplaces this morning."

"Oh," I echoed, feeling rather less cheerful now – Edward was the one to roll his eyes this time.

"Come now, Bella," he stepped forward to me again, brushing his slightly cleaner fingers across my cheek, "What is it that your Uncle wants from me?"

"Of course: Edward, he wishes to hear you play."

"Me?" he seemed surprised, and he dropped his hand, "Play?" He shook his head, "Bella, I have not played for weeks, much less been near a piano – I could not-"

"You can," I told him, taking his hand and pulling him to the door, urgency suddenly rising in me as I remembered my cause, "You must, Edward: he will be so impressed."

"Why must I?" he asked me, even as he let me tug him out of the room, "Bella, why is this suddenly so important, I have duties I must-" His words were stopped as I pulled him close and kissed him, and he only protested for a second before he allowed me to kiss him into silence. "At least," he murmured against my lips, chuckling a little, "Can it not wait a while? I have not seen you in so long..." He had a hold on me before I could stop him, his hand straying into my precariously pinned-up bun, and, unsteady as it was already, sent the lot of it tumbling down my back.

Steeling myself, I pulled my lips from his and stepped away. "Later," I said to him, breathing hard but still pushing him away a little, hard as it was, "I no longer have those silly etiquette lessons, and Uncle is expecting you."

"Then I repeat my question," he replied, seeming completely unaffected and following me as I moved up the stairs, his expression resigned, "Why is it so important that I serenade your Uncle with my music?"

"Because," I answered, sure in my scheme, "I suspect he will find it very appealing to start a new fashionable trend – large, pretentious gatherings around a piano, listening to beautiful music that they would love to understand but do not...it is just my Uncle's cup of tea, and you," I turned and poked him in the chest, standing a step above him, "Are just the man to serve it."

"It sounds rather tedious," he teased me, and I shrugged.

"A small price to pay for your hands to be clean."

"Do you really think that this will change anything?" Edward asked, and I nodded fiercely, moving onward up the steps.

"Of course it will. It must. Besides...maybe now there is more chance that when we do reveal ourselves, they will be more accepting. Either that, or," I shrugged, "You could demand payment for your services. You always said you could not support me if we married," I fixed my gaze on him, "Perhaps this way you could."

"You have been busy, haven't you?" he murmured to me, and I sighed, turning into him so we were pressed close together, so I was speaking more into his shirt than to him.

"I think...Edward, I think my chances of escaping a marriage are dwindling with every passing day. Uncle has arranged a lunch soon with some Duke that I have been told to go to." I tugged on the white material gently, running it in between my fingers, examining the lines of stitches. "I can feel my freedom, any chance I may have to be with you, moving further and further from my grasp...it will not be long before my Uncle suspects: we have little time left, Edward, and we must make our move now, or be lost to the sands of time forever."

"Lost to the sands of time," he mused, "How dramatic." Then he lifted my chin and smiled at me gently, "Alright," he said, "You have convinced me."

I smiled back at him, "Good. And I promise, as soon as we are finished, we will go somewhere far away for the afternoon: I will even allow you to choose what we do." He seemed placated, though I mourned the loss of his hand as I led him up the stairs.

"So," Edward murmured to me, conversational despite the looks we were getting from various members of the household as we emerged from the servants' quarters and headed for the gaudy main staircase, "Which of the many Dukes we have become acquainted with are you lunching with?"

I sighed, dreading the meeting already, "Henry Delaunay – I do not think we have ever met him, though."

Edward's voice was darker, quieter, when he answered. "I have seen him," he said, and I bit my lip at the expression on his face.

"Tell me what he is like then, Edward...please," I took a deep breath, "I can handle it."

"There is nothing so _wrong _with him," he said, reaching out to brush his fingers with mine, warmth staying on my skin despite the brief contact, "Just...he is rather much older than you."

I sighed, "Oh no, not another old one..."

Edward chuckled gently, though there was not much humour in his laugh, "You would think you did this every day."

"I do. Mostly." I looked back to smile gently at him, careful to make sure no one who could misinterpret – or interpret it correctly, as the case was – was around, "All the other days I intend to be with you."

He seemed less optimistic, "I hope so."

"Mmm," we had reached the room. "Uncle," I knocked gently, "Uncle, I have brought Edward."

"Show him in," he called back lazily, and I nodded, turning to propel Edward towards the door.

"Charm him, Edward," I hissed to him as I pulled it open, "Make him love you as much as I do."

"Are you sure? I can be a little too persuasive-"

I rolled my eyes, reaching out to press my fingers against his lips, pushing his sarcasm back, "Of course not as much as I do, but almost as much." I smiled gently, "It would be impossible for someone to love you as much as I do." His eyes softened, and I knew that he was about to say something just as romantic in return, but then I spied Jane turning the corner and I stepped away, placing a quick hand on the small of his back and propelling him out of sight. "Good luck," I whispered, before I slammed the door shut and turned, making to look as if I were simply ambling down the corridor – Jane caught sight of me, and I could have sworn some sort of lightening crackled around her as she smiled.

"Dearest cousin," she made for me, and I winced inwardly – as per usual, she was ridiculously underdressed for a rather sharp Autumn morning such as this, her dress a light, cotton material, so thin I imagined that in a certain light you could possibly see straight through it, right to her skin. Her silver-blonde hair was adrift around her shoulders; but as much as I disapproved of how my cousin chose to dress, I realised that I was no better – my hair was curling to my elbows too, dark and thickly waved where hers was light and impeccably straight, and I could imagine my cheeks were flushed red too, from where Edward had been kissing me not five minutes ago. Jane caught all of this and more – I could see the glee in her eyes as she moved to stand in front of me. "Why, Bella," she said, her voice sharp and mocking, "What have you done to yourself? You look just as if you have been rolling around in the bushes with some passionate young lover of yours." I blushed at her words, her tone improper to say the least, but my answer was too weak to affect her.

"You really should not be speaking so, Jane," I said to her, but she only laughed, waving away my words as if they were nothing.

"Do not be so prude, Bella," her gaze was sharp and intelligent, "It only convinces me more that you have something that you are hiding..."

"Hiding?" I tried not to let my nervousness show, "Me? Do not be so wishful, Jane."

"Oh," she giggled, raising her brows at me, "Defensive, Bella? Could this be because you are protecting him? Who is he, a cook, a baker, a candlestick maker?" She shook her hair, her laughter cruel, "Maybe a servant boy...oh, but that is just far too scandalous. I seem to have forgotten this is _Bella Swan _I am describing." She said my name as if it were bitter-tasting in her mouth, and I glared at her as she carried on, smiling wickedly at me, "You are going to be a good, pious little girl and marry whoever my Uncle tells you to, are you not?"

"That is enough, Jane," I replied, anger now replacing my intimidation, "Stop it. Do not think to insult me just because I have _morals_...unlike you, free and _easy_ as you are."

"Oh," she brought her face close to mine, spitting her words onto my skin, "You think you are so much better than me? You, with your virtuous words and your big, innocent eyes? Everyone may think you are the sweet, dutiful young woman, but I say no: I will find out what you are hiding, _Isabella_, and then I will ruin you." Jane gave me no chance to respond, sweeping away, obviously now bored of mocking me. "Tell that Edward boy I would love to see him," she threw back at me, and I clenched my fists, my abdomen tightening, "And put up your hair Isabella, you are disgracing us all!"

I growled under my breath, almost pricking blood from my palms as I squeezed them tight. "Come on, Bells," I said to myself, trying to stay calm, "She knows nothing: she is just trying to frighten you..." As I stayed that way for a long minute, I jumped when the door opened and I heard my Uncle call for me to come inside. Shaking my anger away, attempting to hide it beneath a calm facade, I stepped inside, trying to stop my hands from trembling as I faced him – Edward was underneath his arm, looking sincerely uncomfortable there, but Uncle expression could not have been happier.

"Isabella, my dear," he smiled at me, his voice rich and jovial, "You have sent me a masterpiece! This boy," he shook Edward by the shoulders, and I could not help but smile, my anger dissipating a little at the tetchy expression on his face, "He is wonderful!"

I curtseyed, smiling calmly but secretly beaming, "I thank you, Uncle."

"He must begin at once," he said to me, clapping Edward on the back, "My boy, you are now going to play for all my social events – how does that sound, eh? Exciting?"

"Of course, sir," he said quietly, "But-"

"I know what you are going to ask, Edward, my boy: you do not wish to work for free, now, do you?" Uncle, rather than being insulted, seemed even happier at the thought, "Excellent, excellent, very enterprising, very enterprising indeed. Edward: I will see to it that you are given a very good wage for your services...and Bella, my dear." He turned to me, and his large smile was very disconcerting, "I can now see that you fare much better in other areas than your cousins...this pleases me very much indeed."

My voice trembled slightly at what his words implied, "Of...of course. I...I am glad." I breathed in deeply, very aware of the fact that, by helping Edward, by perhaps furthering the chance of our future, I was also potentially crippling us both. Uncle was now more interested, more pleased and sure of me than he had ever been before – in his eyes, I was fast becoming an incredibly powerful bargaining chip. I could see the same pernicious glee in his eyes as I had Jane's...no, Uncle definitely did not love me.

"Well," Uncle clapped his hands together, looking satisfied, "I would dismiss you both now, since I have much to attend to – Edward, you may start work tonight: I have arranged a ball at the request of my daughter Jane. Isabella, of course, I expect you and your sister to be there." I sighed, anticipating torture but still inclining my head, unable to do anything but agree – perhaps it would not be so bad if Edward were there. At least I might be able to steal a dance or two with him.

* * *

"Look at this," Alice giggled in my ear as we stood, leaning up against a wall, surrounded by ballgowns and suit jackets, heeled shoes and fancy updos, "Why, this is positively astounding!"

"It truly is," I murmured back to her – and neither of us were lying. For, even in this room, filled with seventy people, maybe more, there was total and absolute silence: all were quiet, listening, expressions of rapture adorning their faces that were lit by bright candlelight.

And who were they listening to?

Edward sat, completely surrounded yet seeming completely unaware, the keys of the old piano seeming almost part of his own body as he played – the melody he coaxed out of the instrument was so sweet, so beautiful, that I swore he was taunting the very stars out of the sky, telling them to come closer just so they could bask in the glory that was his music. Pride was tugging at my heartstrings, pulling them tight, a happiness bubbling through me that I could not describe as I watched him render the whole congregation speechless.

Applause rang high through the room as his fingers slowly moved to the last note, sounding in the silence like a bell before the people around us broke into rapturous applause. I had to restrain myself from crying out his name, from running to him and hugging him tight, to tell him how proud I was of him. In that moment I was sure: we were going to be alright. We were going to escape this world, maybe not now, but not too long from now. Besides: many others were moving to congratulate him, obscuring him from sight, so instead I turned to Alice, her beam, I imagined, almost matching mine. "Is it not wonderful?" I said to her, laughing happily, and she laughed too.

"It is wonderful to see you so joyful," she answered, tossing her coal pin curls back from her face whilst her blue eyes sparkled – I nodded fervently.

"Oh, Alice, you cannot know how happy I am," I sighed, "What this means to me..."

"I do know," she took my hand and squeezed it tight – her message was clear, even though she did not speak it aloud. She knew how close we both were to freedom, to being with those two that we loved most in the world: it could not slip away from us now, I was sure of it.

"He is a wonder," came an unknown, unexpected voice, which startled both Alice and I – I turned to find a young man standing there, blonde to the highest degree and slightly short and plump, his cheeks carrying a light sheen of sweat. He was smiling almost eagerly at me, and I swallowed, trying to hold back the urge to sigh in despair, smiling gingerly back at him instead. "You must be Miss Swan," he held out his hand, "It is wonderful to meet you," he gushed as I shook it, his voice running at such a pace it was hard to keep up, "My name is Michael – Michael Newton, actually-"

"It is good to meet you too, Mr Newton," I replied, smiling a little more despite myself – I gestured to Alice, "This is my sister, Alice Swan." Alice bowed her head, smirking at me before she excused herself, leaving me to his tail-wagging mercy.

He laughed nervously, "Miss Swan," he said, "Would you care to dance?"

"The music has ended, sir," I replied, feeling rather sorry for him – he seemed less pompous than the rest, and I did rather respect him for it. His young, bumbling nervousness was endearing, I supposed: I was considering putting him out of his misery and sparing him a few more minutes when I caught sight of a figure in the shadows, watching me – the ghost beckoned, a smile on his lips, and when I turned back to Michael Newton, I was smiling too. "I am sorry, Mr Newton," I told him, "But I am, unfortunately, indisposed."

* * *

"Bella?" Alice appeared at the bottom of the stairs a few weeks later as I prepared to move down them, Jasper sitting warily on her arm – I rolled my eyes, hurrying down to her level and raising my brows at her.

"Alice," I said, shaking my head, "What are you doing? What on earth are you thinking, bringing him here?"

"Good afternoon to you too, Miss Bella."

"I will be careful!" she replied, both of us ignoring Jasper's sarcasm, a little too carefree for my liking, "Besides, we are not going to be here for long-"

"Alice," I tutted, "Just because we have not gotten ourselves into trouble as of late, and Uncle is not keeping as close an eye on us as he used to, it does not mean either of us can be frivolous and hasty."

"Bella, I have not-"

"I do not care, Alice." I moved closer, my voice dropping to a furtive whisper, "If you wish to keep Jasper secret, then you _must keep him secret_."

"Oh," she sighed, "I do loathe it when you are right." She nodded, obviously reluctant, before pulling Jasper away. "Come," I heard her say to him, "Let us go _hide _somewhere, as Bella insists..." I rolled my eyes again, then continued on my way to my Aunt's rooms, for that talk Uncle had insisted I have with her. I had already inquired with my Mama to ask of her what Aunt would wish to speak with me about, but she had been just as opaque, promising only that she would be there too – whatever it was, I had decided, it must be important.

Uncle was just as demanding as ever – since I had made a 'promising discovery' in suggesting Edward become his new entertainer, he had never had as much time for me as he did now. Anything I did, anything I said, was scrutinised by him, and there were more suitors than ever vying for my hand. Nor did escape seem anything more than a dream, due to Edward's still meagre wage – Uncle's idea of handsome was definitely not mine own – and Mama's insistence that we had no reason to return home yet. And yet, that was all I wished to do: to be free of all this, even for a week, to be able to sleep in my own bed, maybe with Edward there beside me: to visit our lake, our field of blue flowers, walk through corridors free of snide remarks and sideways glances...I had grown tired with being careful with every step I took, and it was starting to fray on my nerves.

Somehow, being the only one with any ambition, any fight left, was becoming rather difficult.

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	19. Secrets

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"Isabella," my Aunt whipped the table with her hand, "Pay attention!"

I caught my mother's look of disapproval as I quickly looked back, tearing my attention away from the gardens and the sunshine, cool and icy as it was, not melting the frosted morning dew as it would in summer. "I am sorry, Aunt," I apologised quickly, "What is it that you want of me?"

My mother smiled slightly at me, talking instead of Aunt, for which I was grateful - she did not screech or shout, "Bella, there are things you must know now that you are a woman ...now that you are of marrying age."

"Things that a married woman has to do," Aunt carried on in her raspy, high voice, "Her duties."

"Duties?" I echoed, "I know a married woman's duties, Aunt: keep the house, look after the children-"

"There is more," she insisted, "More that men expect of women – that any man expects of any woman. The most important expectation, which leads to siring children."

I frowned, even as my mother chided gently, "Do not frown, Bella: ask whatever makes you feel you should frown."

"I do not understand," I started, "I mean...are you talking about siring children as a duty, or something else?"

"Something else," my Aunt said at once, "Isabella – on your wedding night, the man will come to you," my mother caught my slowly horrified expression as I wondered what monstrosities would come of this famous 'wedding night', "And-"

"Theodora," Mother interrupted, "Would you let me have privacy with my daughter? If you do not object, I would prefer to talk about this alone with her."

Aunt scoffed, "Renee, I mean no disrespect, but-"

"It is what her Father would have wanted," Mother said, her voice and eyes hard – mine widened as I saw my Aunt's mouth tighten until it became almost invisible, "She needs to understand, and she needs her mother to tell her, Theodora. Would you permit me to talk to your daughter about such a tender subject?"

They glared at each other for another second, then my Aunt inclined her head stiffly and stood, sweeping out of the room as fast and as haughtily as her rigid finery would let her. I laughed nervously, twisting my fingers together on my lap, "You have angered her, Mama."

She sighed tiredly, rubbing a hand over her eyes, "I know, my love, but it is the way it must be. You have to hear this from me, not from your Aunt; she does not know what I know. Now," she sat forward in her chair, "What I am about to tell you is what every girl over your age will know. Your Aunt is right when she says it is one of your duties whenever you decide to take a husband – a time that may be close at hand for you, if they have their way," I blanched, thinking of Edward, and she smiled gently, "Do not worry about that for now, darling; whilst I am here, I will look after you."

"I know, Mother, but-"

"Say whatever you want to say later, Bella – please let me finish telling you about this matter first."

I nodded, closing my mouth and twisting my fingers tighter together on my lap. I had the feeling that whatever I was being told was one of those well-kept secrets all adults had, which children were not allowed to know, and were only allowed to once they had grown. I also knew that this was connected to the infamous night after the wedding – I had always had the general feeling that it was something of importance; other girls talked about it enough.

The last thought that crossed my mind before Mama started talking was Edward.

If I could have my way, he would be the man I chose to marry - there was no chance that I did not love him enough – so I knew, somehow, this would connect to him, even if Mama did not know it.

All this was enough to make me listen carefully as my Mother began talking.

"Bella, as you may know..."

And so she instructed me in all the ways that a woman may satisfy a man – how it must be done, what must be done, where and why and when...I asked no questions, just sat and listened in total astonishment.

"But, Bella," my Mother said as she finished, "There is one more thing I must tell you."

I swallowed, suddenly feeling very young, "Something else that is required of me?"

She shook her head seriously, "No, my love – a little snippet of advice from your Mother. Now, listen." She shifted forward in her chair, "Bella, many will try to tell you that doing this is simply a duty, but it is not – it is much more than that. When it is with someone you love...it is the most wonderful thing in the world." She smiled, a faraway look crossing her features, "It signifies the closest two people who love can ever be."

"Like you and Father?"

She inclined her head gently, "I loved your Father more than anything – until you and Alice, of course – I have and always will love him. I have had the experience many other women have not, with the only man I could ever truly love. So, there is another piece of advice I must give, before I let you go – something to which you must listen." She leaned forward, taking my hands gently in hers, holding me in her blue gaze, "Find who you truly love, Bella. Find him, and you will be together always. I found mine, and I was happy with him, wherever we were – I would have gone anywhere, made my home in the crudest street corner, just so he could love me and I could love him. Your Father meant everything to me, and he still does. I may have lost him now, but I know, wherever he may be, I still have his love. Find the man who will love you like your Father loved me, and you will be happy." She smiled, sitting back, letting go my hands which simply fell limply in between my knees, "It is all I ever want for you to have, my love – all I ever wanted you to have."

"Mama," I breathed, stunned and speechless, "Mama...I...I am sorry."

"Sorry for what, darling?"

"Sorry you lost Father."

She nodded at my blunt statement, her voice breaking a little, "I know, my love. I am sorry too. I know you could not imagine how it would feel to lose the man who meant so much to you – I hope you never will have to feel what I feel. But I will gladly take it, if it means I may stay here with you and Alice."

Dare I tell her about Edward? Dare I say how, if I closed my eyes and imagined Edward lowered into the cold, hard ground, lost to me forever, I could barely breathe for the grief that took me, even at the thought? Dare I explain how I had already found the one man who I could love...forever?

I bit my lip, feeling unable to keep the secret from her anymore. She would understand, would she not? If she knew what I and Edward had? I could not imagine her to be one who would judge me, not when she had been a scullery maid herself.

"Mama..."

But then, what if she did? What if she forbade me from seeing him, and sent him away from me? I could not live without him, that, I knew.

"Yes?"

I hesitated for a second, undecided, then the idea of losing Edward tightened my chest, and I sighed.

"Thank you, Mama."

The secret I carried weighed heavy on my shoulders as she smiled, but I knew I would bear it, for however long I must to protect the boy I loved.

Later, as the moon slowly rose in the sky – it was full this evening, casting its pale, shimmering light across the grass – I changed into a loose cotton dress, long to the wrist, one of the only pieces of my own I had managed to salvage from my Aunt, and pulled my heavy grey cloak around my shoulders as a barrier against the cold. Carefully I slipped out of my door, closing it quietly behind me, sure not to make a sound, then I ran down the corridor, skidding to a halt at the corner. I peeked around it, making sure no one was there, then I carried on, all the way down the main stairs and across the hall, heading around to the back.

When I reached the back living room I snuck through it then took hold of the window, pushing it up until there was a Bella-sized hole and climbing through it, shutting it to leave no evidence of my presence there. Once I was free of the house I ran, the wind blowing my hair across my face as I glanced back with a practised eye, so I knew no one was following. The route was familiar to me, after many nights excursions, and I made my way easily and quickly through the grounds, my feet crunching the few gravel paths I crossed. I hardly strayed from the grass, so I did not make a sound – the little summer house, hidden in the trees at the edge of my Uncle's vast estate came into view within a few minutes. I hurried towards it, my feet hardly touching the ground as I picked up speed, the darkness beginning to frighten me as the trees loomed over my head, their branches reminding me of claws. A thousand things were running through my head tonight – most of all my conversation with my mother...my newfound knowledge was unnerving, to say the least. I wondered if Edward knew as I zigzagged through the bows – but that was silly. Of course Edward knew: he was a man already. I supposed there was no way he shouldn't.

Another thought came to me then – he knew. All this time we had been together, all he had held back...I had never known why, and now to know what he had been thinking of...

Was it wrong to feel slightly thrilled by the thought? To know that, those few times when he had slipped, pushing me back into the grass or wherever we were, his kiss becoming heated and deep, holding me tighter than he ever had, he had been thinking of where we could go, or what we could do...I wondered how much he wanted to.

That set me off on a new trail of thought, and as I approached the tiny cottage, hidden in the bushy trees, I considered asking him. I could not know how he would react – I could guess, but I could not know for sure. Would he let me?

I shook my head, displacing the thoughts as I felt that familiar stirring in my stomach – excitement. "Edward?" I hissed as I came close, slowing to a walk, glancing round for him; there was no one I could see, "Edward, where are you?"

For a moment I feared he was not there, but then a lean, tall figure appeared out of the shadows, "Bella?"

"Edward," I sighed in relief – he hurried towards me, opening his arms and pulling me into them. I happily accepted his embrace, pressing my face into his warm chest, breathing him in and feeling completely content; as I always did when in his arms. We stayed that way for a long minute – it was my minute to calm myself, and unwind from the pressures and stress from what had been a very long and tiring day. It was my minute to throw off my facades, any parts I had been playing, masks I had been wearing: anything that was not me, and become Edward's Bella – the person who I truly was, behind all those people I had to pretend to be to please everyone around me.

With Edward, I was completely myself. He was my lifeline – the one who kept me steady, who prevented me from falling into the seething, perilous waters that was today's society.

I did not know what Edward did with his minute, but all I knew was, as he pulled away, he seemed as carefree as I felt.

He smiled gently at me, stroking my cheek, "Hello."

I rolled my eyes, pushing myself up onto the tips of my toes to kiss him in answer, lightly moulding myself to him, my arms twining about his neck. Edward let me, his lips softly moving with mine, but after a second, he lightly pushed me back.

"Enough."

Of course he was chivalrous; being Edward, his hands never trailed further down than my waist, his kisses, much unlike our first, never exceeded a gentle urgency – he was always soft, and careful...I could not imagine how much further he could go...I had always known there was more – now I knew how much - but I had always felt as if there were an invisible line, which Edward was reluctant to cross – for what reason, I did not know. I supposed it was only out of concern and courtesy, which Edward's morals told him I was owed.

He would never believe that I did not care about my modesty or my virtue – all I wanted, some of the time, was for him to simply hurl it all away, stepping over his carefully placed lines; which I now knew was to throw his body over mine and give me what was my right to him.

But, for now, I was mostly content with anything he gave me – all that had never failed to make me tremble, in a way that felt remarkable.

I resisted objection, instead pressing closer to him again, telling him that I wanted him to hold me tightly – something, at least, he never objected to. He tightened his arms, tucking my head under his chin and burying his face in my hair; I sighed in contented pleasure, his body warming mine, his arms as comforting and familiar as my mother's had been when I was a small child, but in a sincerely different way.

"I missed you," I whispered finally; I felt him chuckle slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"You always do – but, then again...so do I."

"Mmm," I replied absentmindedly, shivering slightly as a draft of cold night air blew under my cloak, touching my bare arms – Edward noticed immediately.

"Come," he drew me towards the door of the summer house, barely visible in the darkness, "Inside, before you catch your death."

"You would not let that happen," I countered, as Edward lead me in, stopping to close the door – the moon gently bathed the little cottage in its watery glow, heightening the shadows; Edward drew out a box of matches, gently rumpling my hair before he went in search of the few candlesticks contained in the small house.

"At least I can attempt to prevent it."

I rolled my eyes and shivered a little, wrapping my arms around myself and proceeding into the small bedroom – the cottage was furnished for two: a servant couple or guests, I did not know; my Uncle had declined to tell me it was here. There were two rooms – a living room, containing one simple loveseat and a recliner, both relatively comfortable, a deep red carpet which was starting to wear, a round table and a writing desk with a chair. The floor in both rooms was wooden – in the bedroom there was another deep red carpet, perhaps less threadbare than the first, a large bed, with simple curtains hanging from the ceiling around it, and two small tables by the bedside.

I took off my cloak, hanging it over the chair in the corner of the room to let Edward know where I was, then jumped behind the curtains onto the bed, carefully pulling one more around the bedside tables as I did so – Edward and I liked to stand our candles carefully on either side, so that there was proper light.

I was not alone for long – soon after, Edward appeared, ducking into the curtain-walled space, handing me a lit candle which I put on the table on my side; he did the same, pushing the heavy velvet material out so it did not go up in smoke. After that he leant back on his heels and smiled serenely at me – I went to him and knelt up, taking his face in my hands and kissing him again; he lightly grasped my waist and returned my kiss, achingly gentle, as always.

"Mmm," he sighed when he pulled away, smiling, "I did miss you."

"Edward," I whispered, wanting more of him, but he shook his head, bringing up one hand and pushing it gently through my loose hair.

"Easy, Bells," he said, "We have the whole night ahead of us."

_And not much more will happen_,I thought sourly before checking myself – Edward was being courteous of me, and, disgruntling as it was, I knew he was doing it because he loved me.

I sat back and folded my hands in my lap, letting the heat dwindle and die as he ducked out of the space again – a few minutes, and he was back. He had taken off his coat – still the one I had given to him; he always said he would never need another – his waistcoat, and his boots, so he was only in his white shirt, which was untucked, and his leather trousers. He looked even more devastatingly handsome, and my heart began to pound faster and stronger, ringing in my ears as he repositioned the candle, then looked up; his hair looked red in the flickering light.

He sighed, his slight smile crooked, then moved forward on one knee, pulling me into the circle of his arms and kissing me this time, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than before – sometimes, Edward could be so temperamental.

I wound my arms around his neck – gently; I did not want to make him move away – but, as he moved in deeper, his hands knotting in my hair, and as my breath came faster, as it always did, my mind was whirring, distracting me with images and thoughts and words, confusing me so I could not concentrate. What did Edward want? What did I want? I knew there was more now – no longer could I shrug off his gentle reprimands; I wanted to advance. At least, I thought I did.

But what did Edward want? I could not tell if there was something in his kiss – I had never felt anything like this before until Edward; everything was new and exciting, foreign to me. Edward had taught me so much, but now...I felt less like a child who had stepped into an unknown world, with only one person to guide her; I felt like an adult. I was starting, if I was honest with myself, to feel dissatisfied, even if I did not know what more would feel like.

Even the thought of going there with Edward was exciting – a thrill; I was afraid, but when was I not afraid with Edward? When had I not thrown myself into new, unchartered territory without hesitation when I was with him?

I would not be alone – Edward would be there with me.

Of course, I had never been talented at concentrating on many things at once, and Edward noticed that my attention was elsewhere, "Bella?" He pulled back an inch, "Is something wrong?"

It took me a second to draw my focus back to him, but when I did, I was compelled to tell the truth, "Yes," I sighed – I found my hands were in his hair, and I drew my fingers through it absentmindedly, whilst trying to find the words. "Yes," I eventually sighed again; his gaze was slightly worried.

"Has anything happened?" he asked me, cupping my face in his hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs, "Your mother? Your Uncle?"

"No," I shook my head at once, "No, no - nothing like that."

"Alice?"

"No."

"You?" His gaze became worried, "Did something happen to you? Has anyone-"

"Edward," I interrupted, "Nothing has happened." I took a deep breath, "This is to do with...us." You could practically hear the word drop as thunder in the air, tension cracking through the conversation like a bolt of lightning.

"Us?" Edward abruptly dropped his hands – I bit my lip and picked them up again, holding his soft, piano-fined ones in my own.

"It isn't anything bad – oh, Edward," I rolled my eyes, "Do not look like that." I let go of one of his hands so I could touch his cheek, bringing him back into contact with me, "I love you, you know that, nothing is wrong in that...I suppose this..." He was watching me intently, his head tilted to the side, waiting; I sighed. "Mama and Aunt Theodora asked that I should see them this afternoon. They...they wished to speak to me."

"About what?" Edward asked; I swallowed, biting my lip and glancing away, unable to make myself say it – it was uncomfortable, and a blush rose in my cheeks as Edward ducked down, catching my eyes with his, "Bella?" He frowned, "You are blushing." He gently grasped my jaw with his fingers and turned my head around again, so I was facing him, "Why?" When I said nothing, he frowned, "Bella, please – whatever it is that you are thinking, you know you can tell me; you know you can tell me anything." He smiled ruefully, "I will only assume the worst if you do not say."

"I can't..." I sighed and relaxed my body, letting him hold my head up with his hands, just looking at him, my arms hanging by my sides, "I don't know how..."

"How to what?"

"I cannot find the words...I do not know how to tell you."

"Just say it, Bella – just tell me."

The word burst out of me, "Love." Edward looked confused, and I added awkwardly, "Making...it."

"Making...lo-" his eyes widened, "Oh." The word dropped out of his mouth, hitting the mattress with a hollow thump. I bit my lip as he fell backwards, lying flat out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling without saying anything else. I lay down too, resting my head on my hands, watching him. I was burning with a million questions, and, after a long few minutes passed, I was unable to keep myself from speaking.

"Edward?" He did not glance at me, but I knew he was listening, "Do you think that we could...would we ever...?"

"It would be conventional to wait," Edward murmured suddenly, still looking up at the dark ceiling, "To wait...until marriage." I had to choke back a groan of something like despair, "It was what I was taught, Bella – it is the right thing to do."

"But what if I do not want to wait?" I shifted up and propped myself on my elbow, watching the profile of his face, "What if I do not care if it is the right thing to do?"

"It will always be the proper and right thing to do, even if you do not believe it is so, Bella."

"So what is it you would have us do, then?" I asked, irritated – he still did not look at me as he answered.

"I know our situation is not...conventional, to say the least. If you weren't...or if I weren't..." he did not speak the words, but I knew exactly what he meant, "I would be securing your hand in marriage now, but...I know that cannot happen for us, Bella," he finally turned to look at me, lightly bringing up one hand to stroke my cheek, "Not now, at least, which changes how conventional I can be. Marriage is not certain in our future, and not even I," his smile was slightly mocking, "Prude as I may seem, can wait when I do not know when the day will come...so...unless there are dire circumstances...when you are twenty-one, Bella. That is how long I should like to wait."

"Twenty-one?" I exploded and sat up, "Twenty one?" He watched me, silent as I screeched, "Four years? You are making me wait four years?" I knew I was being petulant, but the aggravation was just too strong – why must Edward do this to me? "So I must go four years, unless I can marry you somehow before then?"

"Bella..." he moved onto his knees, sitting back on his heels, reaching for my hand; but I snatched it away, angered passion shooting through me.

"That is hideously unfair, Edward! You know I could not marry you now, but I love you now as much as I will when I am twenty-one! What point could there be in waiting?" When he did not answer, I said in exasperation, "Do you not want to? Is that what it is? Am I not good enough now; is that why you think four years is necessary?" I felt myself begin to panic at that thought, and Edward sighed.

"Of course I want to, you silly, beautiful, oversensitive girl," he shook his head at me, his eyes soft, lightly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before resting his palm on my cheek again, stroking my skin with his thumb, "That is not why, Bella, I promise you – despite what I say, I am still a man. I could never not want to, especially since it is you," he chuckled dryly, "I do not think you understand exactly how desirable you are."

"But then," I replied, bewildered, "Why?"

He sighed, "Would you believe me if I said it were difficult to explain?"

"Believe you, yes – but I will have you explain it, all the same."

He smiled, "Of course." He was silent for a minute, thumb still gently tracing circles on my skin as he looked thoughtful – I stilled his hand with my own.

"Edward?"

"You are so young," he abruptly started – I made to disagree, but he shushed me, "Please, let me speak – I assure you I will listen to anything you have to say to me when I am finished. You are young, Bella," he said again, "You may not believe it to be so, but still, the fact stands. Of course, I cannot move to say that I am older or wiser than yourself...but I am a man – I know more of these things than you. Waiting would be the right thing to do – for you. Myself?" he sighed a little, "Oh, Bella, I would have you now if I could allow myself...if I could believe that I were being honourable and good; but I would not be. I would be coveting you – you, a virtuous, beautiful young woman. My morals and my principles, not that I have many, forbid me from doing so. For Bella," he caught me in his eyes, holding me still, his gaze intense and powerful, "There is so much I cannot give – I cannot give you a home, or a livelihood, or a family...I cannot even give you a long, happy, married life with me. How could I forgive myself if I took that which is the only thing you have over me? The only thing, which is so important – I could not think to have you completely and ultimately unless there were something I could give in return."

"But, Edward, what about-"

"At twenty-one," he gently continued, "Hopefully, you will be old enough to understand what it is you are giving to me – to understand the importance of what you wish to do. You are only just seventeen – I am only just nineteen...both of us are too young, too inexperienced in that which we are involving ourselves. I cannot deny that it would be wonderful," he smiled, "I know it would be magnificent, and my only wish is that there were some way...but there is none. I must hold back, for the sake of _us_. I cannot let myself slip, for one slip could mean the end."

"Edward, will you never understand that I do not mind?" I sighed in exasperation, "You talk of protecting my virtue, but I do not care! I do not care what you cannot give me – I care of what you can! I want this; maybe not at this very moment, but I do not want to have to wait four years for you! Who knows where we shall be then?"

"I hope to be right here," he answered gently, "Still with you. And I pray that you will be here with me too. Please understand, Bella – I love you. You may not care, but I do – I love you, and that prevents me from doing anything that may harm you or your wellbeing. I want what is best for you, no matter what it does for me, and this is what is best."

"So I will never know what it is like?" I murmured, in despair, no matter what he had told me, unable to not feel bitterly disappointed, "To be loved in that way, completely and ultimately? No slips – no...mistakes? You will constantly be holding back from me – I can never kiss you too deeply, or have you too close; I can never, despite whatever feelings I may have, love you properly, until the day comes which we may not even reach? Edward, I-"

He kissed me roughly, effectively cutting me off, "Bella," he murmured in my ear, voice hoarse, "I promise you – I will make love to you on the evening of your twenty-first birthday, not a day earlier or later, if our situation does not change. I swear it." He kissed me again, "I swear you will not be forsaken in this – if something should happen, I will do my absolute best to make sure we have our night together." He kissed me yet again, "I swear this to you, Bella...if it were to be announced that you were leaving for France, or America tomorrow, I would have you tomorrow. I will not let us be parted without that final gesture, but, if all goes well...if all goes as I wish it will, we shall not have to resort to that. We will make it, Bella: you know it as well as I. As for mistakes..." he smiled, tracing my jaw with his lips, "Now we have reached this point of understanding...I believe a few every now and again will not completely render my plan to dust..."

"Really?" I breathed, at once tensing as he lightly kissed my collar bone – I could hear my own rapid, haggard breaths, each breath moving absurdly loudly past my lips, my heart pulsing rapidly, skipping a beat each time Edward touched me; it was like a shock to my nerves as his fingers trailed across my chest, from shoulder to shoulder, his lips following the burning trail that they left.

"Mmhmm," he breathed, the word dribbling from his lips like so much as air, his kisses at my shoulder; he lightly brushed down the sleeves of my dress, baring the skin of my shoulders to the cold air. They tingled magnificently as the material scraped across my skin, the sweet friction making me tremble. Edward drew me to him, pressing me against him so my arms slid up and over his shoulders, far enough that I could bend my arms fully without touching him at all. His hands were in the small of my back, pushing me up a little so I was above him; I tangled my fingers in his hair, throwing my head back as he ran his hands up to my shoulders again, slowly tugging my dress further and further down as he bent his head, slowly kissing down my descending neckline, deeper and deeper until I was sure that, any further, and my dress would be around my waist – I had declined to wear anything underneath it, for the sake of comfort.

That, Edward knew.

Gently, he sucked the previously untouched skin just above the natural curve of my breasts, then, as my hands tightened, he lifted his head, sliding up again so he was at eyelevel with me, my bared skin pressed against his – he kissed my forehead, his hands coming up to frame my face, dipped down to my jaw, back up again...I had no control over my body anymore – he may have been rendering his plans to dust, but he had rendered me to dust too in the process.

I trembled as he kissed one corner of my mouth, then the other, and, when his lips finally touched mine, they took me – his kiss was urgent and deep, capturing my mouth and gently pushing my lips open. I responded at once as he slid his hands down my back and pressed me ever closer to him, bending me backwards slowly until I lost my balance, falling backwards onto the bedsheets, him falling with me. Then he was on top of me, and the weight of him was glorious, his lips moving willingly with mine, giving me all I had asked for, pressing into me, his hands cupping my jaw and twisting into my hair. My arms were tight about his neck – then, slowly, his kiss eased, and I could have groaned in despair if I hadn't been limp.

Edward withdrew, rolling onto his side, settling into the pillows, his eyes closed and his breath ragged – his kissed me once more, twice, three times, then tenderly drew me into his arms and kissed my forehead, gently stroking my hair as I struggled to regain formal consciousness. We were silent for a while, except for the haggard rasps of our rising and falling chests, then, he spoke. "There," he whispered, his voice a little strangled, "I..." he seemed to give up, instead settling for a slight murmur, "There is your mistake..."

I shivered, pressing closer to him, wanting his presence all around me, the heat in my stomach not yet abated. "I wish you would make more," I whispered finally, "That was..."

"There will be," he promised, "Bella, not even I can survive without slipping up – I could not do it to myself, much as I would like to say that," he kissed me gently again, "I could not keep myself from you."

"When?"

He lightly pushed a lock of hair back from my forehead, his smile achingly gentle, "That I cannot say." When I sighed he hugged me tighter, pressing his face into my hair, "Sleep, Bella – I will be here in the morning for you to argue with."

"I do not wish to argue," I said, yawning, "I am happy with whatever you give me...just do not leave me."

"I never will," he promised, "I will be here and I will slip up," he chuckled lightly, "Admitting my own mistakes before I make them – what a strange world I live in." Then he pulled the covers up around us, "Sleep, Bella."

"Yes, yes," I grumbled; Edward laughed again, lightly.

"I love you, Isabella."

Falling asleep in his arms had never been easier.

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	20. Drastic Measures

**Hellooo, my little mushrooms :D**

**I do enjoy not having writer's block :D Now I just need to learn how to enjoy revision...damn you fanfiction for being so entertaining. Thank you so much for your reviews, I enjoy reading every one of them, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter :D**

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**

"Bella?" I jumped at Alice's voice, emanating from behind me as I snuck through the back door of the house; I turned and sighed, pressing a hand to my racing heart before fixing her with a firm gaze.

"Alice," I said, "Please – do not surprise me like that."

She smiled a little, though something seemed to be behind her smile, holding back her normal sunny nature, "Is it my fault you are exceptionally unobservant?"

"Exceptionally nervous, I would say," I replied, looking around me before closing the door carefully, sure there was no one watching – I breathed out a relieved sigh, "There. Undetected."

Alice shook her head, "Oh gods, Bella. The things you do for love."

"Well, I-" I made to make a cutting reply, but then something about my little sister had me stopping. "Alice," I asked her, "Are you quite alright? You seem...rather tired. Look at your eyes," they were surrounded by rings of deep purple, which was much unlike Alice – she hated to lose even a second of what she called her 'beauty sleep'. Alice almost flinched, her hands retreating to her abdomen, hugging herself as if she were protecting something; my eyes widened. "Alice?" Touching her arm, I tried to comfort her, "Alice, what is the matter?"

"Bella," somehow, there were tears in her eyes, "Bella, I must tell you something-"

"Isabella!" Alice flinched, and suddenly she was gone as quickly as she had appeared, almost bird-like in the way her head twisted to and fro before she fled – I stared after her, bewildered beyond measure, but then Jane appeared in the doorway, her face gleeful and the sharp ends of her pointed teeth sparkling as she smiled. "Isabella, Uncle demands that you see him straight away."

"What?" I had barely managed to get the word out before she had my wrist in her tight grasp, nails pinching into my skin – she cackled, her silver hair flowing out behind her.

"You are in trouble now."

"Jane, what-"

She suddenly swung me into what I realised then was my Uncle's study – the door slammed behind me, the force of it sending the loose strands of hair swinging across my face; I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the confusion. Looking up, I saw my Uncle's magnificently overstated bureau, dressed in mahogany wood and covered in various trinkets and papers, and atop it all sat my Uncle, seeming rather small amongst all the large furniture. He stood, his expression silent and grave, and I stood still, twisting my fingers in my lap as I waited for him to speak, knowing that something was different. His footsteps were loud against the floor as he slowly walked, step by step towards me, and it took all my courage to not back away. And I refused to do that, to show any weakness at all. The silence stretched on as he stared at me, and I could not stop my cheeks from flushing, glancing down at the ground and studying the cracks in the wooden floor.

Then, when the silence was becoming so unbearable I was considering speaking myself, Uncle finally moved. "Isabella." I immediately glanced up, and the expression on his face was such that I knew I was not meant to answer. "I have heard very disturbing news from your cousin," he carried on, walking across me, back and forth, until I felt like prey being stalked by a predator, "Very disturbing news indeed."

"Uncle," I began, "I-"

"Quiet!" he roared suddenly, and, faster than I could have ever imagined, his hand came flying towards me – I hardly had time to even move before a sharp smack echoed around the room. My face suddenly felt as if it were on fire, and the world was spinning, my ears ringing...I had hardly managed to process what had happened before he was shouting again, "Do not interrupt me, you insolent girl! How dare you? First you directly disobey me, and now you seem to think that you can interrupt me when I am talking to you!" I gasped soundlessly, my breath catching in my throat; my cheek stung from where he had hit me, and I could feel my skin reddening under my fingers, my breathing fast and frightened – Uncle sat down again, seeming unaffected by what he had done. "In the future, Isabella," he said, his voice now calm and cold, "You will do as I say, or suffer the consequences. I do not want to be embarrassed by you because you seem to think you can miss social engagements that I have expressly told you to attend, nor hear any more reports from Jane saying that she has seen you wandering the grounds with some unknown young man instead - you will not bring shame upon this family, do you hear me, girl?"

"Yes, Uncle," I whispered, refusing to let the tears that were pooling in my eyes fall – I would not let him see how much he had hurt me, nor how frightened I was.

"Now get out of my sight," he spat, ending the meeting as quickly as he had started it, disgust colouring his voice, and I turned and fled from the room with no time for dignity – I was scared and hurt, and even though I refused to cry, I also refused to stay near him, for fear of him. Intending to run away and hide and cry my sorrows out alone I hurried to the stairs, rushing down them, knowing I would not be able to hide back my sobs for long, my abdomen already heaving, my throat already tightening. But I was foiled, as Alice skidded into view in front of me, grabbing my wrists tight in her small grip and pulling me to her.

"What has happened?" she whispered to me, her voice panicked and her eyes wild, "Bella, Uncle is furious, absolutely murderously so!"

"I know," I murmured unsteadily, shock and terror and anger still pulsing hard through me with my racing heartbeat, wanting to escape, "I-"

"Isabella Marie Swan!" Mama rounded the corner now, "Were you aware that a certain Duke Henry Delaunay was invited here by your Uncle for the specific purpose of meeting and speaking with you? That you were due at your Uncle's side more than two hours ago?" Her voice rose to a shriek, "Honestly, Isabella, how am I supposed to keep him from near-strangling you if you will not even attempt to keep him happy!"

"I know I was-"

"And another thing," her voice cut off roughly as she caught sight of the slices on my skin. "Bella," she said, her tone suddenly sharp and quiet, "What happened to your cheek?" When I splayed my fingers, attempting to cover the scratches up, she moved to me and pulled my hand away, her eyes widening and suddenly alighting with angry, white-hot fire as she inspected them. "Marcus," Mama whispered, her voice quiet and deadly – then, all of sudden, she was gone, her scream echoing off the sky, "Marcus!"

"No," I whispered, but Alice held me back, her voice quick and sounding like a bird's chirp as she questioned me – I was too distracted to answer, by the pulsing in my body and the fear that was making my world spin. Suddenly Edward was there, his face dark with fury as he saw the slowly darkening bruise on my cheek.

"I will kill him," he said, his voice coloured, fierce and angry, "I swear to God: I will kill him for hurting you." He turned, "How dare he!"

"Edward," I started forward, snatching his arm even as he moved to follow Mama up the stairs, "Edward, no, please-"

"Let me go, Bella!"

He struggled, but I only held on tighter – I looked around me, panic rising in me as I imagined what would happen if I let him get away. "Alice!" I called, "Alice, help me!" She nodded, moving forward, and together we dragged Edward into the shadows under the stairs, pushing him against the wall – I pressed myself against him, throwing out my arms to prevent him from escaping, whilst Alice did the same for me, "Stop!" I pushed at him again as he cursed, my heart beating fast and fear making my veins run cold. "Edward, please, be quiet!" I begged him, knowing that the commotion would draw observers fast, like moths to a lamp on a summer evening – the consequences of his irrational, passionate anger would be devastating, and I could not let them happen.

"Bella!" Alice whisper-shouted, catching my attention, and then all of us froze as new voices rebounded from the high ceiling – angry voices, screaming at each other, words rising into existence, that made my heart stop beating.

"How dare you!" that was Mama – Alice and I shared a frightened glance, and even Edward had stopped struggling and shouting to listen: all of us could feel that the tension in the air had splintered, cracking around us in a thousand shards of broken glass. We had fallen off our knife edge, lost our balance and tumbled, and now the world was crashing down upon our heads. Edward's hands, rather than pushing me away, now moved to hold me to him, and Alice was squeezing my own fingers so tight I was sure they would break. Stuck in between, I could only stare blankly at the wall, all my attention focused on the argument above us. "My own daughter!" Mama screamed, "Marcus, how dare you!"

"The child must be disciplined, Renee – do not think I am blind, woman! I know what she has been doing, cavorting under my nose, deliberately, with some...some..._servant_ boy! I will not have it!" I winced, biting my lip, glad of the shadows that hid us – Edward tightened his hold on me, and I heard him growl like some sort of animal.

"And you, Marcus? My daughter may have offended you, but there is much more you are responsible for! Mistreating members of _my _household, ordering my oldest friends about like you are some puppet-master! Ransacking my daughter's inheritance?" A strangled cry signified my Uncle's reaction, and a scornful snort my Mother's, "Oh, do not think that I have not noticed, Marcus – I have tried to see past what is happening under my nose, attempted to see your reasoning: to believe that when you told me there was no other way for my daughters to live comfortably without your goddamned support!"

"Renee!" That was Aunt Theodora's cry of dismay, but she was dismissed and ignored by both of them.

"I say no more! No more, Marcus – I will not allow you to marry my daughters away from me, to take away their freedom...you are no longer head of my family, Marcus."

"What will you do without us, woman?" Uncle roared, "You will be disgraced! Ignored! Live in squalor, with nothing but your precious _family_ to see you through the long, cold, lonely bloody winter nights!"

"If you have any respect, any loyalty at all to your late brother and my husband, Marcus, maybe you will do me and my family the honour of leaving us alone from now on – we will survive, and we do not need you to do so," Mama answered, her voice cold and stiff. "If you have any decency, you will allow us to leave this godforsaken place, for I do not want my children growing up here any longer – you treat your family one way, Marcus, but I will not allow you to do the same to mine."

"You have nothing! No money, no inheritance – it will be mere days before you come running back to me, and do not expect me to be so forgiving then." There was silence, and Alice and looked at each other, wondering what had happened. "Do not walk away from me, Renee!" Uncle almost screamed, but there was still silence – Alice gripped my hand tight, Edward pressed his face into my hair, but all I could do was stand perfectly still, shocked into speechlessness. "Renee!"

"That is Lady Swan," she said, her voice now close – we all craned our bodies to the side to see that she was at the bottom of the stairs, "To you, Marcus."

"Bella?"

"Alice?" I turned away from my hurried packing to find her standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, "Alice, why are you not in the carriage?"

"Bella, I need to tell you something," she said, and I sighed, putting one hand on my hip.

"Alice, can this not wait until later," I began to move to the cupboard as I spoke, "We really do not have all the time in the world, you know."

"Bella," Alice pulled me away from my overflowing trunk, her grip rough, "Bella listen!"

"Alice," I began, feeling exasperated, tugging my hands from hers and turning away, "Really, this is not the time to-"

"I'm with child!" she cried out – and I could have sworn my heart stopped beating. Very slowly and carefully I looked back to her, to see that silent tears were running down her cheeks.

"Excuse me?" I murmured, trying to contain the panic that was rising quickly in me – my voice rose with it, "Mary Alice Swan, what?"

"I do not know how it happened," she burst into great, heavy sobs, and all of a sudden her arms were around me, hugging herself to my chest and wetting my dress with her tears, "Bella, I do not know what to do! If Uncle finds out...oh, Bella!" Speech seemed to be beyond her, and she buried herself in my arms and cried, racking my own chest with her sobs.

"Alice," I whispered, feeling tears pool in my own eyes as I felt her cry against me, "Alice, please-"

"Ruined!" she cried out, "Oh, Bella, I have doomed us all!"

"Alice, no," I tried again, patting her hair gently, trying to console her and trying desperately not to feel the small, round bump that pressed against my abdomen, "Alice, no, it is going to be alright – oh please, Alice, stop crying, please..." Rocking her gently I tried to soothe her, shushing her gently, but my veins were running cold with shock and dread, and sorrow for my poor little sister. I cried a little too, but soon her grief ran its course and we sat together on the window seat, my arms around her and her head on my shoulder – after a minute or two I asked gently, "Is it-"

"Yes," she sighed, not moving from her position as she replied, "Yes, of course it is his child. Even asking that question is rather thoughtless of you."

"Sorry," I replied, smiling a little, happy to see her sarcastic humour had not failed her – she sighed again, pressing closer against me.

"Oh, Bella," she said, tears starting to leak down her cheek again, "Bella, I am so sorry."

"It is not your fault, Alice," I tried to tell her, "A poor lack of judgement, maybe, but..." A thought struck me then, and I pulled away to grasp her shoulders, looking at her seriously, "Have you told Mama?"

She shook her head, "Not even Jasper. How could I? Mama would be furious and Jasper..." She sighed, "I do not even want to think about how he would react."

"I am sure he would support you, Alice," I said to her, but she did not seem so sure – I breathed out slowly and watched her for a second, hating how vulnerable and scared and _tired _she looked. "Oh, Alice," I murmured, reaching out to push a strand of her hair fondly back from her cheek, "What am I going to do with you?"

She smiled gently, "I do not know – I am a total disaster,"

"No," I shook my head, smiling too, "No, not at all." I sat back on my heels, shaking my hair from my face, "Well, I suppose there is no use sitting around here and worrying about this – the best thing to do now, I think, is to get away from here, and go home...and then we will tell Mama and Jasper."

She shook her head vehemently, her blue eyes wide and frightened again, "Bella, please-"

"Alice," I told her gently, "They have to know." I nodded firmly before I stood, holding out my hands to her, "And the sooner we get out of here, the better."

There was a sudden rustling from the corner of the room – my head whipped round just in time to see a mane of silver-blonde hair disappearing from a crack in the door, which had been pushed ajar; my stomach dropped to the floor at once. "Jane!" I cried out, cursing her and her vindictiveness to the fiery depths of hell before turning back to Alice, "Alice, we must get out of here at once, before she has time to tell Uncle!"

"No!" she jumped to her feet, her voice shooting through two octaves, "No, Bella, Uncle cannot know!"

"I fear it is too late for that." I grabbed my trunk and pulled Alice towards the door, "Come, we must find Mama and tell her, and she will get us away from here." Alice was crying again as I dragged her along behind me, almost flying down the stairs – we burst through the front door, and I threw my trunk into the waiting carriage, startling Jasper and hitting Edward, I gleaned from the indignant cries that echoed from inside the darkened cab. "Get inside," I said to Alice, guessing Mama was still inside from her absence, "Get inside, and if anyone besides Mama or I comes out, flee."

"But, Bella-"

"Do as I say, Alice!" I said to her, pushing her inside before I ran back towards the house – I heard both Edward and Jasper cry my name, obviously alarmed by my frightened haste, but I had no time for that now. I caught Mama as she descended the stairs, and at once I ran to her, taking her arm and pulling her towards the door. "Quick, Mama," I cried, "Mama, we must leave at once!"

"Darling," she did not fight me, obviously alerted to our situation by my desperation and the way my hands were trembling, much as I was trying to contain myself, "Bella, what on earth-"

"Alice is with child," I said hurriedly, "She told me, and Jane was in the doorway, and-"

"Renee!" came the roar, and I squeaked, unable to hold the fear back.

"Mama, please, we must leave immediately!" But Mama was already gone, and it was now I who was running in her wake, both of our feet pounding down the drive – she leapt up to sit behind the horses with John whilst I hurried into the cab and slammed the door behind me. We were off, swinging sharply to the side with the force of how fast we were suddenly going; I looked around quickly to see Alice crying into Jasper's arms – he was trying to soothe her with no obvious effect – and Edward next to me, bracing himself against the wall and looking bewilderedly at me. "Bella?" he asked, but I ignored him, keeping my gaze out the window until I was sure we were safe before I relaxed. I took a deep breath and sat back, tugging the slightly moth-eaten curtain across the window as a barrier against the cold sunshine that was streaming in before I rested my head against the wall, turning it slightly to look at him. He raised a brow at me, obviously concerned, and I sighed, feeling suddenly very young and tired.

"Oh, Edward," I murmured, moving to drop my head on his shoulder, curling up beside him – as his arm wound round me I reached out and took Alice's hand, squeezing her fingers gently, trying to reassure her. She looked up and I smiled, "It is all going to be alright, Alice." She nodded too, and I saw Edward and Jasper exchange similar looks of confusion – Alice withdrew and Jasper seemed to know better than to interrogate her, but Edward looked as if he were about to. Feeling as if I could not talk anymore I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, closing my eyes and just willing him to take the hint – he was quiet, and soon I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, pressing my skin gently, in the way he knew I liked.

We drove through the day, evening falling quickly, the sky slowly darkening from purple to blue as night bled across the sky and stars bounced to the surface, bobbing gently as the moon sailed into the heavens. It was a full moon that night, pale and mysterious, bathing the land around us in milky light, making everything seem not quite right – it matched my mood: my mind was still confused by all that was happening, sure that nothing was going to be the same again but not knowing how or why everything was suddenly changing.

We arrived home just as dawn was breaking, though I was not aware of it – we were all asleep, and I was awoken by the sudden lack of uncomfortable bouncing as we stopped. I sat up at once, jolting Edward, who in turn kicked Jasper as he started awake; Alice was the only one who remained sleeping, the dark circles under her eyes even more prominent under the growing light, and I shifted, uncomfortable with knowing why.

"Bella," Mama murmured to me as our much smaller band than had left trudged inside, Alice in Jasper's arms; she was gripping my arm tight, "Bella, is Alice sure?"

"She seems to be," I said back, sighing, my arms wrapped tight about myself against the cold, "And Mama, Jane was there...she has told Uncle, hasn't she?"

"It does not seem unlikely."

"He is not going to be happy," I said, biting my lip, "Mama, what are we going to do?" Mama was not looking at me, her gaze instead directed at Jasper, who was walking ahead of us – I watched her, confusion marking my brow. "Mama..."

"That boy, Jasper," she asked, a strange sadness on her face, "Is that why he is here, even though Marcus sent him away? I remember he has no family, and yet...does Alice..." she looked at me, "His child?"

I could do nothing but nod, sure the sadness in her voice was only for Alice's predicament. "He really is a wonderful man," I began slowly, "It is not as if Alice has chosen the wrong man to father her child..."

"Bella," Mama sighed, shaking her head, "Bella, I cannot..."

I gasped, my hands going to my mouth as I stopped in my tracks, Mama stopping with me. "No!" I cried out, remembering to keep my voice to a whisper but unable to stop myself, "Mama, no, you cannot!" When she looked away from me I tried again, taking her hands, "Mama, please, Alice would never forgive you!"

"Bella, do you think I could allow him to stay? Alice quite obviously has made the wrong decision while with him, and I can only think badly of him because he obviously did not stop her – or worse, that he forced her to do it."

"Mama, Jasper would never-"

"Nevertheless," she interrupted me gently but firmly, "The situation would only be worsened greatly if I did not insist that he leave – at least, if I do, Alice's dignity will be protected. People will think that she was forced, which is much better than the alternative."

"Mama, please!" I was horrified by her decision, "You cannot do that to Jasper! He would be disgraced!"

"Better him than Alice."

I shook my head, "Alice loves him, Mama: she will never let you do this – there has to be another way, there must be! This cannot be the only solution!"

"There is no other way," she replied, her voice grim and flat – I knew she was very close to becoming unstoppable, and I also knew there was no way this could happen.

"Mama, there has to be," I insisted, "I cannot let you do this."

"You cannot let me?" Her eyes suddenly burned, "Isabella Marie Swan, you had best be happy that I would not do what most other mothers would do and send Alice herself away! That boy, Jasper, is quite obviously misguided and he is leading Alice astray, and from what has happened now...I cannot let this pass and pretend like you wish to that it will all be alright."

"Mama, no!" I said desperately, knowing she was wrong but unable to see how I could convince her – I could easily imagine what sending Jasper away would do to Alice: it was much like what I knew would happen to me if anyone ever took Edward away from me. If Mama was allowed to go through with this, Alice and her child would never see Jasper again. "Please," I began again, but she cut me off with one final glance.

"I will not discuss this anymore, Isabella. I am your Mother, and you will do as I say – you have been disobedient enough these past few months, and I am the adult, not you. The matter is closed."

"Mama-"

"Closed!" We were in the house now and she moved away before I could say another word – I growled in frustration, balling my fingers into fists, knowing I had to stop her but having no idea how. Perhaps if I talked to Alice...

"Bella?" Edward came to stand beside me, but I did not let him take my hand, not until Mama was safely out of sight – after our conversation, and after I had seen how ruthlessly she had decided to handle this situation, I could not even think to trust that she would not treat Edward and me as she was treating Alice and Jasper. I sighed as his warm fingers wound through mine, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose to try to push back the headache that was quickly uncoiling in my head. Edward seemed to sense my distress, but thankfully he did not ask, even though I was sure he must have been burning with question. Right then, all I wanted to do was just to back to sleep and forget all of this, even for a few hours.

We went to my room, pulling the curtains across the growing daylight and curling up together under the covers, protected against the cold of the morning. I burrowed close to him, feeling totally safe in his arms, and his soothing voice broke through the silence – he hummed to me gently, whilst I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep. Eventually I sighed, the material of his shirt which I was gripping lightly constricting under my fingers as I tightened my fists, unable to find any peace inside me.

"I love you so much," he said quietly then, the soft words warming me, soothing me; there was never a time when he did not know the right thing to say. I sighed, too sad and weary to reply anything other than:

"I know."

"It will be enough," he murmured to me, holding me tighter, expressing both our fears – the fear that it would not, the fear that we would be pulled apart...the fear that something unimaginable would happen and we would be forced to give each other up for something bigger than ourselves. For our families.

We were so afraid we would lose each other.

Edward sighed again, "It will _always _be enough."

"I know it will," I replied, opening my eyes to smile at him, trying not to let my trepidations show - but he knew as well as I did that I was not sure. He bent down, kissing me softly, silencing anything else I could have said: there was nothing else I could have said. All I could do was kiss him back, and let his mouth on mine wipe away all of my fears – let his kiss make me forget, until there was nothing else in the world but him.

It was never that difficult.

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**:( Thoughts? Reviewwws 3**

**Love you all!**

**ATO xxxx**


	21. Bring Me To Life Awards

**Hey guys!**

**Sorry this is just an authors note - another chapter is nearly ready, but it still needs a bit more work - but I have some news: this story got nominated for a Bring Me to Life Award :D Ahhh! Ok, I may be overly excited as this is my first award but yeah...EEEEEEPP! Thank you so much to whoever nominated me, I appreciate it so much, and now, if you guys would go and vote for me I would be incredibly grateful :D**

**The site is www(dot)bringmetolifeawards(dot)weebly(dot)com, and voting has started today :D If you want to vote, just go to the site, and vote :D The story that has been nominated of mine is Forget Me Not (this one ;) ) and it has been nominated in two categories: Blast From the Past Award and Forbidden Love Award (I can't say those aren't appropriate). If you could spare a minute to vote for this story if you think it's good enough, please please do, and it's also a great way to find new stories that have been nominated too :D**

**So yeah, if you want to vote, just put in my penname (Avatar Twilight Obsession ;) ), and the title of the award, which is, as I said, Blast From the Past Award or Forbidden Love Award.**

**Thank you so much, guys! I love you all! An update is coming your way soon, just as a major thank you :D**

**ATO xxx**


	22. Inevitability

**Hey guys :D Sorry it's been a while, I've had exams and this chapter was oddly hard to write :(**

**First of all, a massive thank you to you all - FMN got nominated for a Bring Me To Life Award, and I could not be happier nor more excited! Thank you if you voted for me/nominated me, and for all your support in general! I could never have done anything like this without you guys :D And if you want to vote, go to www(dot)bringmetolifeawards(dot)weebly(dot)com, go to vote, then put in my penname and the award (either Blast From the Past Award or Forbidden Love Award). It's also a great way to check out new stories, so I would really recommend going and having a look :D **

**Thank you so much, guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to leave a review ;)**

**Disclaimer - Yes yes, we all know...**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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**

The next evening I was curled up on the window-seat in my bedroom, trying not to listen to the argument between my Mother and Alice that was going on in the next room – of course, I had chosen to stay within hearing distance so I could make sure I knew exactly what was going on, but it was still terrible to listen to. Edward sat with me in between his legs, neither of us having been bothered since we disappeared after dinner, gently playing with my hair – I knew he was listening too.

"How could you, Mama?" Alice was screaming, her voice cracked and broken as if she were crying at the same time, "I will not let you – you cannot do this to me!"

"It is for the best, Alice," Mama said quietly – but Alice would not have it.

"No, it is not! I would rather be disgraced and ridiculed than have you take Jasper away from me!"

"Alice, he made a serious error of judgement-"

"How dare you blame this on him! This is not Jasper's fault!"

The argument went on, and I groaned, letting my head fall back onto Edward's chest, playing with the material of his trousers which was stretched over his bent knee. "I wish I could do something," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else, and he dropped a kiss on my forehead before replying.

"I think it is best not to get involved."

"But what if something happens?" I bit my lip, "All this shouting cannot be good for the baby...oh, Edward, what if she does send Jasper away?"

"It seems inevitable...and, I suppose it is the best thing to do."

I disliked his answer immensely. "What if it were me?" I pressed on, "Edward, what if it were me who was with child, and you who were told to leave and never return? Could you do it?"

His gaze was serious, his voice firm. "Never."

I sighed, turning to look out of the window, "Then Jasper will not either." Another thought came to me, "Could they get married? That would fix the problem, would it not?"

Edward had a question for me to answer, "If it were you, Bella, who were with child, and it were mine...would you marry me, even though we both know why we cannot now? Would a child change the situation for you?"

My answer was unwilling but truthful, and I hated it, "No."

Edward sighed, "Then I fear we are somewhat between a rock and a hard place."

"I thought you would help me, Mama!"

"I am helping you!"

"Oh," I moaned, turning and pressing my face into Edward's shirt, "Oh, this is simply horrible..."

"I am sure it will all be fine," Edward soothed me, rubbing his warm fingers across my cheek, "Alice will calm down eventually..."

"Papa would never do this!"

Both our eyes widened – Alice had thrown Papa onto the table, the most hurtful and yet most true thing she could have said; I gulped and Edward winced. "Or not."

"Papa would help us! He would not send my child's father away – he would understand, he would never do that to me!"

"How dare you!" Mama sounded enraged, "How could you bring your father into this, Alice?"

"Because I have to!" Alice was definitely weeping now, "Mama, you have to listen, like Papa would, and you are not! When you married Father, when you had Bella and me, you were not who people wished for him to marry, but you did it anyway! Can you not understand Mama – I cannot live without him, and I refuse to do so! Mama, please!"

There was silence, and I sat up, pulling out of Edward's arms and listening hard, hoping...

Mama sounded incredibly weary, "Alice, I love you very much, and all I wish for you is to be happy – but I fear that you will never be happy if I do not stop you from making this mistake now. There will be other young men..."

"No there will not! Mama, please! I love him!"

"Oh, Alice," Mama murmured, so quiet I could barely hear her, "Where did I go wrong...how could I have allowed this to happen...oh, my poor Alice..."

"Do not touch me!" Alice screamed, "I hate you! Leave me alone!" All of a sudden I saw a flash of her, tearing past my door which was purposefully ajar – I started up, but Edward pulled me back down, his voice beginning to murmur in my ear, telling me how Alice needed to be left alone: but then Mama appeared too, and she saw us, clear as day.

"Bella," she seemed frozen for a short second, and I felt like a young child again, caught doing something I knew I should not be doing, "Oh, Bella, not you too..."

"Mama..." I began, but she was gone, already hurrying after Alice, calling after her, shouting for her to come back – I sat back, feeling helpless. "Well," I murmured darkly, "At least I can tell her you had the common sense not to sleep with me."

Edward found my words strangely amusing, and even in our desperate situation, his laughter made me smile.

Night began to fall, the achingly slow day beginning to draw to a close – the house had been quiet ever since Alice had locked herself in her room and Mama had to lie down because she was not feeling well. Edward and I had wandered round the house for a little while, hand in hand, but we soon returned to my room, for a lack of anything else to do. Soon enough I decided it was late enough for sleep, the moon high in the sky and the stars shining brightly, and Edward made no effort to leave – on the contrary, he was first under the bedclothes. God knew, our routine should be clearly established by now: we had done it enough times.

I sighed as I lay down next to him on my side, resting my head on his chest – he lay on his back, and he slung out an arm to wrap it loosely around my shoulders. There was a pensive silence about, one with which neither of us, it seemed, had any thoughts to break, so instead we were quiet. I could hear his slow, steady heartbeat, warm and comforting against my cheek, his chest rising and falling, creating a rocking effect that began to lull me to sleep. Realising that fighting my drowsiness was futile, I hugged closer to him, gripping his shirt in the fingers of one hand, while the other was tucked under me. He tightened his arm across my shoulders, pulling me over almost to lie across his chest, his fingers coming up to grasp mine – I sighed contentedly, feeling completely peaceful, as if nothing in the world were wrong, and Edward and I could be this way forever.

I fell asleep with a smile on my lips and Edward's gentle humming in my ear – I was roughly tugged out of a dream what could have been even a second later, I was so quickly and deeply asleep. However, from the light sunshine I could see even in my still-sleeping state, I assumed it was a while later. "Bella," that was Alice's voice, "Bella, are you awake?"

"Huh?" was the sound that emanated from my mouth, Alice's bleary form appearing in front of me, a suitcase in her hand and a shawl around her shoulders – I was only half awake, not sure whether I was still dreaming or not, but I nodded still.

"Bella, I am leaving," dream-Alice said, her voice quick and frightened, "I came to say goodbye."

"Oh," it did not seem so ridiculous – after all, I was only dreaming, "Goodbye then. I hope you have a good journey." My voice was low and hoarse from sleep, and Alice laughed a little.

"I think I will." She leaned in to kiss me, her lips a slight pressure against my skin, "Look after yourself, alright?" Alice said, her hand resting gently on her abdomen, "And Edward too – you both need each other, and I promise I will tell you where Jasper and I are living when we are settled in."

"Alright," I yawned, only just able to keep my eyes open, her face beginning to flicker, her voice become hard to hear, "Make sure you do not get attacked by bandits..."

She laughed properly, "I will, I promise." Reaching over I saw her gently rub her hand across Edward's mess of hair, and in reaction he murmured a little, still asleep, and pulled me closer – I complied, settling down again and closing my eyes. I heard Alice sigh, suddenly retreating from my vision. "Goodbye, Bella," she said quietly.

"Bye, Al," I yawned carelessly, before falling back to sleep – I did not wake again until the morning, when the sun was high in the sky and the air was warm; I bolted upright as the memory of my not-dream came flooding back to me. Had Alice really left? I shook my head, aware of Edward awaking beside me: it must have been a dream. It had to have been – Alice would never leave like that. Satisfied, I stretched languorously, giggling as Edward's warm hands came to my waist, twisting me and pulling me so I ended up on top of him.

"Good morning," he chuckled to me, his features as bright and open as I felt.

"It is a good morning," I agreed, wrapping my arms around his – his eyes were bright and sparkling with mirth as I let my weight fall, resting on him, our foreheads pressed together. He hummed, just as a cat would purr when it was contented, I thought, the low rumble making my chest tingle; smiling, he reached up to press his thumb against my chin.

"A perfect morning, I think," Edward murmured, "For a few mistakes..."

I giggled happily as he lifted his head to kiss me, drowsy and gentle at first, both of us clumsy from how we had just awoken – I moved to press my fingers to his cheeks, holding his warm face in my palms as I kissed him back. After a minute or so of this, me lying flush against him as if he were the mattress, kissing slowly, Edward seemed to grow bored of this. He moved to turn over, dragging the blankets over both our heads so we were immersed in darkness, sheets twisting around us as we moved. He chuckled darkly as he pulled me under, appearing above me, his back creating a tent of bedclothes that stretched across us. "You know," I murmured as he pressed his mouth to mine again, lying still now and letting him guide me, "What we are doing – this could be considered as practising."

"Go on," he replied, moving now to kiss my jaw – I started a little, my heart picking up, and it took me a minute to remember what I had to say.

"Do you not think we should," I shrugged gently, the slight movement leading him to move to my shoulders, teasing down the sleeves of my rumpled dress to bare the skin, "Focus on certain..._areas_?"

"Areas?" he asked, though I could tell from the gleam in his eyes that he knew exactly what I was talking about, "Well...what areas would you particularly like me to focus on?"

"I could not mind at all," I replied, playing with a curl of his hair, running it through my fingers, "Wherever the wind happens to take you..." Edward only hummed a little in response, before effectively ending the conversation by pressing his warm lips to mine. I twined my arms about his neck and settled back contentedly, kissing him as playfully but yet just as deeply as he was kissing me – his body was warm against my own, his fingers caressing my cheeks, hands raking through my hair, sliding down my waist. Sighing against his lips I moved instinctively closer, heat snaking across my skin as he trailed his hands over my jaw and down my neck, both of us encased in warmth and darkness. My heart was racing, my head pounding, breathing haggard, and all I wanted then was for Edward to simply kiss me harder, lest I should go up in flames.

I did so love it when Edward let down his guard and let himself _be _with me like this...I felt so alive, so free, so...content, despite the fire that was raging through me, the desperate need to be close to him. I moaned a little as he pressed his lips against my jaw, tightening my arms around him, and he chuckled a little against my skin. "Mmm," he murmured, even as I kissed him again, bringing him back to me. "I do love you..." he said, "I love you so much...you had better not ever leave me," he pulled away to stare at me, his gaze suddenly intense, "I do not know what I would do."

"Why would I ever willingly leave you?" I sighed, smiling a little, "You know I could never live without you."

"You could," his mood was suddenly changed, his eyes sad and brooding, holding me tight now, it seemed, because he was afraid of losing me, "You have your family, and other men...I, on the other hand, could never love anyone but you."

"Edward," shaking my head at him, I pulled him down to kiss him gently, before resting my forehead on his, "I will and never could love anyone but you." When he was silent, I brushed his cheek with my fingers, a little bewildered by the sudden change in him, "Edward," I asked, "Edward, are you alright? What has brought this on...do you know something? Has something happened?"

"No, no," he sighed, "No, it is nothing like that..." he shifted against me, pursing his lips a little, "I...I am just so afraid of losing you."

"Well you will not," I smiled at him, "You will never lose me, so stop worrying." I laughed a little at the anxiety on his face, "It does not become you at all, you know." He rolled his eyes at me, a little more light returning to his face even as the sun broke free of the clouds, slicing across the bed and engulfing our makeshift tent in strange and wondrous colours, deep reds and maroons mixing with cerulean blues – it made his green eyes seem even more mysterious and deep, swirling with light and darkness and a thousand other things, unfathomable to me. "Edward," I said then, trying to draw him out of his mood, catch his gaze and hold it, trying to reassure him, "I love you too, you know."

That made him smile properly. "I know," he murmured, leaning down to kiss me gently before he rolled us, settling his head against my chest, "And I am so very glad."

Of course, though I had thought Edward was only being overly dramatic when he expressed his fears to me, there was some truth to the matter, as much as I tried to ignore it. Alice's absence become more and more prominent throughout the day, and as the day went on, even though I tried to hide it, I was becoming more and more worried – I still believed that what had happened in the darkness was a dream...but where was she then? Where had she gone? If she was in her room, she was still steaming and was refusing to talk to anyone...either that, or she was out with Jasper. But still, it was not like her to be away for so long...

My growing suspicions were confirmed when Mama appeared for dinner, the same expression of anxiety mirrored on her face as on mine. "Bella?" she hurried to me, "Bella, have you seen Alice?"

"No," my heart began to grow cold, "Have you not?"

"I thought she was with you, Bella," Mama seemed almost wild with worry as I shook my head, her eyes widening.

"No," I said, unable to grasp why she looked so horrified, "Mama, I have been with Edward...I-" But she was already gone, hurrying towards Alice's room, her name high on her lips – my heart was racing as I hurried after her, suddenly wondering if Alice's goodbye really had been real...had Alice really gone? Had she really run away? My stomach began to churn, and I began to call for her too, "Alice! Alice!"

Her door was open, Mama already inside – I skidded to a halt, almost running straight into Mama and knocking her down. "Alice?" I gasped, looking around wildly, "Alice, where are you? Alice!" I turned, looking straight at my Mother, "Mama, what-" Trailing off at the blank expression on her face, I glanced down to find her holding a piece of paper, the delicate scrawl, much unlike my own, most definitely Alice's handwriting. And what she had written was very clear to see.

_Goodbye. _

We stood there in silence together, both of us staring at the piece of paper, as if it could somehow reveal more answers the longer we stared at it. But the scrawl remained the same, the single word as opaque and unforgiving as it would ever be: my sister was gone. She had left us...and now I was alone. The thought hit me hard, almost knocking me down, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, feeling as if my whole body had stopped, my heart not beating anymore as ice spread through my veins.

"Well," Mama whispered, "So it has happened then."

"What are we going to do?" I asked her – I should have known not to ask. I should have known that I should have run after Alice, and that I should never have stopped running. That would have been the sensible thing to do, the _right_ thing to do. But stupid, ignorant me asked the question, and I was punished accordingly by the answer.

"We are going to go and ask your Uncle to get her back."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head and stepping away, wrapping my arms around myself, staring at Mama as if she had just pronounced my death sentence, "No..."

"Bella," Mama murmured quietly, "Bella, we must."

"No," I cried, knowing I was being selfish, hating myself, but unable to stop, "No, Mama, no!"

"It is the only way."

"Mama, please!" I shook my head more violently now, tears flying from the corners of my eyes, my heart in my throat, "Mama, no, please do not!"

But she had already turned away from me, already hurrying out the door. "John!" I heard her cry, even as I tore after her, "John, prepare the carriage!"

I caught her arm, holding her back, "Mama, you know what he will do, what he will want in exchange? He will want _me_! Mama, please, do not do this: do not make me!"

She tugged her arm away, her face impassive but tears on her cheeks too, "Bella, if you want your sister back, then this has to be done." Steeling herself, she stared me down, "It is the only way."

"He will take Edward away from me!" I screamed finally, even as she turned her back on me, shouting my last hope to the heavens, "Mama, I love him, and Uncle will take him from me! Please, do not do that to me!"

She did not look at me again as she answered, "Bella, that does not matter now. What matters is your sister, and as long as both of you are safe...I will give up everything else for that, and so must you." Shock held me still as she walked away from me, descending out of sight – I heard the whinny of the horses, the shallow crunch as the coach rolled away across the stones of our drive, and I shook my head, unable to believe what was happening. I stood there for a long minute, listening to my heart ring in my ears, then the force of it all slammed into me and I cried out in pain, sorrow ripping through me as if she had sliced a knife through my skin.

"Edward!"

I turned and fled, running as fast as I could even though there was nothing behind me, nothing coming after me – I flew down the corridor, gasping and crying, running as if my life depended on it. Which, I supposed, it did. Jumping the kitchen stairs almost three at a time, the wood complaining from the force with which I hurled myself down them, I rushed to the place I knew Edward would be. Crying out his name again, and hearing his surprised reply, I threw open the door to the piano room and threw myself into his surprised arms.

"Bella!" at once he hugged me to him – I was shivering, gripping tightly onto him, pressing my face into his chest, willing myself to calm down but unable to, "Bella..." he was confused, "Bella...what-"

"It is beginning, Edward," I interrupted, a dreadful sense of fate resting on my words, settling heavy on my shoulders – I looked up at him, and knew my face was wide and scared, my heart beating wildly fast, "Everything I was ever afraid of...it is all happening now...oh god," I pressed my face into his chest again, willing the fear to go away, "Edward," I whispered, "I am going to...you are going to-"

"No." His fingers pulled my chin up roughly, his face abruptly serious, eyes burning as they stared into mine, "No, Bella. You are not going to lose me – stop thinking it, because I will not let it happen. We are going to be fine, do you hear?" The tone of his voice told me I had frightened him, but I knew I had good reason; I made to speak again, but he stopped me, "Bella...please...you are not going to lose me," he repeated, as if to reassure himself as well, his voice absurdly fierce, as if he were fighting the world with that one sentence, "You cannot believe it; Bella, do not even _say _it. I refuse to let it happen. It will not."

"Alice is gone," I murmured, the words heavy in my throat, needing him to know, "We cannot find her...Edward, Mama has gone to ask Uncle for help. You know what he will want in exchange," my voice broke on the last word, "He will want..._me_."

The silence that followed was enough to tell me that there was nothing more we could do. It was almost too easy to guess what was going to happen now.

"Oh, Bella," he whispered, the dread in his voice now matching mine – he crushed me closer to him. "I do not want to lose you," he murmured, the tears on his cheeks now mingling with mine – I nodded, holding onto him, small sobs rocking me and making me tremble, our foreheads pressed together, desperately pushing closer and closer in an attempt to keep him with me, even though he was not going to leave.

"I know," I replied, my voice catching as I tried hard not to sob in despair, "I do not want to lose you either...Oh, Edward," I cried, "This is going to kill me!" Burying my face in his shirt I began to weep, crying and crying and unable to stop – Edward shushed me gently, trying to soothe me, but he was crying too, and somehow I knew for sure that soon he would be taken from me, and I would never see him again. The thought only made me sob harder, hold onto him tighter, desperate to find a way out, to avoid what I thought I knew for sure was inevitable.

"It will be alright, Bella," Edward said finally, if only for his own comfort, "Please do not cry, love: I promise I will not let anyone take you away from me, not now, not ever." He caught my gaze, holding me there, "We will find another way to help Alice. Yes, Bella?"

I wanted to believe him so very badly, so much so that I sighed and gave in, "Yes, Edward."

"I love you," he said to me, his eyes, now dry, very serious – he wiped the tears from my cheeks too and pulled me against his chest; I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but still unable to shake the feeling of unending doom.

"I love you too," I whispered, and then I pressed my face into his shirt, if only to hide the tears that were pouring down my cheeks.

Neither of us even considered running away. How could we do that to Alice? In the few days that Mama was gone we spent all our time together, both of us desperately searching for a way out but not finding any – a sense of doom settled over us both, of unease and uncertainty, unending pain and torture seeming to be hanging just over the horizon, hiding behind the foolishly bright sun. After a week of silence the threat seemed a little more manageable, and I could hardly convince Edward that there was a sincere chance we would be parted soon, since he refused to believe it.

There was quite a bit of crying, but in the end, our position remained unchanged. We could not run, neither could we leave each other, and neither would he allow himself to do what I so wanted him to: and so we remained in some sort of limbo, loving each other but ignoring the rest of the world, waiting until it came looking for us.

And come looking for us it did.

At the end of the week, on a cool and gloomy Sunday, the sky a dull grey mass above my head, thick with storm clouds, there was a knock at the door: my body, my heart and soul, froze in absolute horror as I realised who was there. "Isabella," the wood swung away, a dark voice chuckling from behind it, sealing my fate, "I have a proposition for you."


	23. Forget Me Not

**Boo. This is sad :( **

**Thank you for all the support guys - you know I love you! Thanks for the reviews as well ;)**

**DISCLAIMER - Yep...**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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**

"Edward Masen," Uncle slowly circled me, his voice low and his smile unnerving – he moved, picking up a heavy book from a nearby table and twisting it by the corners in his palms; he chuckled, and I shivered, "Well, well, well, Isabella..." He turned then, facing me head on, still tossing the book in his hands, the way he was looking at me very cold, despite the smile on his face, "What are we going to do with you?" I did not answer, clenching my hands into fists and trying to remain impassive, refusing to rise to him – when the silence continued, the smile dropped from his face, and I was afraid for a second that he was going to strike me...but then he only laughed again. "Silence, Isabella? Well, I suppose that will make it easier for me to tell you exactly what I have planned." Throwing out a hand, he gestured to the only chair in the lonely room, his gaze as sharp as a shard of glass and his smile now deadly, "Sit down, my dear."

After a minute of deliberation I carefully did as he said, remaining quiet, not wanting to say a word lest I should reveal something to him – though he seemed confident, so I assumed he knew everything. I tried hard not to tremble, to not show the fear nor the instinct to run: somehow I knew I would not make it to the door. Uncle was now inspecting some glass figurine, holding it up to the light and examining it, and I watched him suspiciously, my gaze narrowing – small rays of sunlight flickered across the room, casting strange shadows across his face. "Your sister, I gather, has deserted you with some...some apprentice boy?" he began, his voice holding so much glee it made me nauseous, "And with child besides...how terribly scandalous that would be if such news got out, do you not think?" When I said nothing, he suddenly turned, his face dark, "Answer me!"

I gulped, my heart growing cold as fear wrapped around it in a sharp claw. "I suppose."

He seemed satisfied. "So," he carried on, "There are a few issues we must smooth out, my dear. Firstly: how are we going to ensure your sister's safety – it would be quite easy for me, but of course, I do wish for something in return."

"A marriage," I whispered, the words bitter in my mouth.

"That is not all," his voice was gleeful, spiteful as he murmured, "You must accept any price, and I am not willing to bargain, Isabella. I have your Mother, your sister is being tracked. You will never see Edward Masen again: I am having him and his family sent away on the morrow."

"What?" I could not help but cry out, "No!"

He slammed his hands down either side of me, the arms of the chair protesting under his firm grip – I stuttered to a halt, truly afraid now, trembling under his fiery gaze, "Do not interrupt me, girl! You will do as I say, if you ever wish to see your Mother again, or for your sister and her...her _bastard_ child to live in peace. That is what I am offering you, Isabella." Uncle brought his face close to mine, and I flinched away, pressing against the seat back – he chuckled, breath rancid and horribly warm against my cheeks, "Give me yourself, in exchange for all those other lives." He cleared his throat, "The Duke has requested your hand in marriage. Do as I ask: marry the Duke, Isabella, and I will let all of them be It is not much to ask, is it?" I took in a jittery breath, swallowing back my tears – slowly, but surely, I shook my head.

"No, Uncle," my voice broke, and I looked away, clenching my hands into fists, "It is not."

"Good." He was abruptly gone, clapping his hands together, already businesslike, "The wedding will take place tomorrow. I will send for you in the morning." He opened the door and stepped out, and I made to get up out of the chair, only to freeze in my position, heart pounding, as he looked back at me. "Oh, and Isabella?" Uncle's gaze narrowed, his smile even more poisonous, "If you wish that Masen boy to be kept out of the mines, you will have him off the premises by tomorrow. I do not want to see his face again, whether it be tomorrow or when I am on my deathbed. There is no other choice," he nodded to me, "Good night."

As soon as he was gone, I slumped, feeling defeated. Slowly, my knees gave way, and I sunk onto the floor, my hand pressed to my chest and my corset beginning to feel tighter than it had before. "No." I whispered, the empty room suddenly pressing in on me, choking me...suffocating me. This could not be happening. I sat there in silence, staring blankly at the wall; my internal voice was silent, my mind completely devoid of anything but one name.

_Edward..._

"No..."

It hit me then, and it took everything I had not to scream in pure, unadulterated anguish. It felt like I was burning, the sorrow building, eating me away from the inside out. The pain in my heart was building too – it was beating faster and faster, each twisted beat tearing at my chest, breaking me apart.

"Edward," I whispered brokenly, out loud; my heart was split in two.

There was the sound of hooves on cobbles, and I stood suddenly, grabbing my cloak from the end of the bed and whirling it around my shoulders, my decision made. The world faded away as I swung round the door and ran headlong down the hall towards the servants' stairs, knowing exactly where I was intending to go.

_You are to never see Edward Masen ...His Grace wishes your hand in marriage...never again. Unless you never want to see your mother alive...unless you want your sister and her bastard child to live in peace...The wedding will take place tomorrow._

_There is no other choice, Isabella. _

My uncle's words reverberated in my head as I tore the back door open and raced across the grounds, my unbound hair flowing out behind me and the tears only just beginning to stream down my cheeks. My heart was beating even faster, screaming out all the pain that was building every second, that was threatening to make me collapse right there on the lawn.

It was happening. Finally...it was happening.

But I could not leave him. No. I could not be without him. I would die, and I knew it. I needed him.

In every sense of the word, he was my life.

But what about Mama? What about Alice?

"Edward!" I screamed for the first time, my voice hoarse and yet shrill, echoing through the bleak darkness. "Edward!"

I reached the edge of the woods and flung myself with no hesitation into their depths, following the trail I knew by heart, praying Edward would be there. My cloak billowed out behind me, tossed by the wind, and my hair was whipping around my face, sticking to the fresh tear trails.

I was struggling to keep my breathing even; it was hitching and I was gasping, but the pain in my side was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. It was squeezing now, tighter and tighter, and I pushed myself faster, needing Edward's arms around me, if only for a second.. Even if we were going to be torn apart, I still needed him now. I burst through the edge of the trees, and the meadow, filled with its blue flowers, hardly visible in the evening dark, blossomed in front of me. Edward was standing at its edge, cutting a clear figure in his light grey coat, reflecting the moonlight.

"Edward!"

He turned and saw me; there were tears on his cheeks too. I ran to him and flung myself into his arms, breathing in his scent, knowing he was all I had.

"Oh god, Edward, save me." I clung onto him for dear life, unchecked tears running down my cheeks and my voice muffled by his coat; he held me just as tightly, his face buried in my hair and his hands pressing into my back. "Save me."

"I will try," he whispered back, "I will try."

We stayed there together for an immeasurable moment, the moon illuminating Edward's curls as I sniffed, still not caring if it was unladylike. "Your Uncle...ordered my father to leave," he said, quietly, and I shook my head, pressing my face into his chest.

No.

"Oh Bella," he whispered, gripping me so tight I was finding it hard to breathe; I did not care, "I love you."

I just shook my head. "No..." I murmured, even though I knew resistance was futile, "No..."

"I love you," he said again, letting out a little rush of air which made my locks flutter, "Your Grace."

"No. Do not call me that," I said, pulling away, moving my hands to his chest and locking my eyes with his, "Edward, do not. I cannot bear to hear you say it." I stared into his eyes, anguish building in me. "Why?" I cried, out my fingers clenching around Edward's coat, new tears filling my eyes again, "Oh, Edward, why? Why must I do this? Why, why why? No, no, no, no..."

"My love," he said, gently prying my hands from his collar and holding them tightly in his, "You cannot leave your family. Nor can I stay with mine. You know I would much rather stay here for you, Bella, but I cannot. Alice needs this...your mother needs _you_. Who am I to take you away from her?"

I bit my lip, "But the Duke...I do not want him. I want _you_. I want to marry _you_, not him."

"He is a good man. He will treat you well, I know it. And the Duke must not know about me – it will ruin you if he does."

"Edward, no!" I cried again, clutching his hands, "You cannot. I will not!" But I knew he was right. He was always right. My family needed me...my mother needed me. I took a deep shuddering breath, "But I must." I looked up at him again and he nodded with me, his green eyes shining with unshed tears.

"It's what's right for them."

"But not for us."

"No," he put his arms around me again and held me to him, "Not for us." I let myself go and cried into his shoulder, unable to ignore the rising tide of truth. We could not be together – it was the wrong time and place. They had us bound to separate tides, and we were sailing away from each other as soon as the sun rose tomorrow. It was inevitable, and I could fight no longer.

"Oh, if only we were older," I whispered, my voice broken and shattered again, and Edward nodded.

"Then we could run away together and get married."

"Live in a small house in London."

"And a small estate in Hertfordshire."

"Three children..."

"And you."

I sobbed, for all that was and all that could never be. Edward stroked my hair, "Shush, my Bella, it will be alright." But he was crying too, I could tell, and I knew nothing would ever be alright again.

"I love you, Edward," I cried, "I always will."

"I love you too, Bella...more than anything. If only it was enough."

If only...

I wanted to stay there, in his arms, forever. This was where I belonged. Not only did I never want to leave him, I knew that I could not. We had been fools. Fools in thinking that we could survive on love alone. This was going to tear me apart.

But still we had to do it.

And even though I knew why, it still did not seem like a good enough reason.

"Come, I will walk you back," Edward said softly. I did not resist, and let him let me go. He took my hand and slowly we wound our way back; our meadow slowly disappearing behind us. I looked back one more time, and, somehow, I could see two phantom people, one boy and one girl, sitting amongst the flowers. They were perfectly still, their hands just touching. They were young, and they were in love. They were us, oblivious to the rest of the world, foolishly thinking love would always be enough.

I looked away and rested my head gently on Edward's shoulder. What my Mother had told me – it seemed so long ago now – following my heart...it all seemed so redundant now. No matter how much I had tried, I had still been caught and held by the ones my Mother and Father had fought to escape. And we could not fight alone, yet we were. Completely alone – neither of us were strong enough, not even together. We reached the back door, and we stopped there, in the shadows. I could not even begin to make myself reach for the doorknob, and Edward did not say anything either.

"Bella..." he whispered, his arms winding around me again, pulling me to him. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to gather the courage to break away. But then Edward's fingers were at my jaw, slowly tapping my cheekbones gently, trailing down to the back of my neck and stroking my skin gently. I sighed again, but in a different way this time. "Bella..."

His fingers were still stroking the back of my neck, and the sensation was all I could focus on. It felt so good. Edward leaned down slowly, his arms tightening gently, and when he touched his forehead to mine and murmured my name again, his lips so very close to mine, I realised he was asking for permission.

I opened my eyes and nearly sunk to the ground as I met his intensely green ones, only an inch away. No one had eyes like Edward.

I nodded, slowly, not able to trust my voice, and Edward smiled crookedly, before leaning down a little more. He hesitated, just as I took a ragged breath – a product of his close proximity – and then, ever so gradually and softly, his lips touched mine.

This was the kiss I had been dreaming of. Almost of their own accord, my hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders and into his hair, gripping it in my fingers. Edward groaned a little and, as his hands pressed into my lower back, the kiss deepened.

It went from slow to passionate and heated in a matter of seconds; before I knew it, my arms were fully round him, my body pressed up against his – I could feel every delicious curve of him – and one of Edward's hands had moved to my neck, stroking the skin there again as he kissed me. He gripped me ever tighter, his lips moving against mine, slowly pushing them apart every now and again. God, he could kiss.

The grounds could have gone up in flames and I would not have noticed – there was a fire in the pit of my stomach that I could not ignore. Eventually Edward pulled back, gasping a little, and it was only then that I realised how out of breath I was. I did not let go of Edward, nor did I open my eyes as I breathed, the fire only growing stronger as Edward slowly let go of me.

Edward said, so softly that I hardly heard him, "Right."

"Edward," I whispered, suddenly urgent, moving towards the door and clutching the knob, "Come inside with me."

His eyes widened, "Bella?"

"Please, Edward?" I tried hard not to cry again at the thought of him leaving now and I said, pleading, "Edward, I need you. You promised me, remember?" I had no time for chivalry now. "You promised me, that if it ever came to this..." I had to choke back a sudden sob, tears blurring my vision, "You promised, Edward."

"It is not that," he murmured, moving forward to take my hands again, "It is just...are you sure?"

I nodded vigorously, desperately, "More sure than I have ever been of anything."

He nodded, then together we stole up the stairs, skirting round corners and ducking through passageways – a few of the maids saw us, but I knew they would not grass – and I clutched his hand tightly, praying for us to reach my room before someone came looking for me. "Here," I whispered, as we reached my door and I sighed in relief, "Come on." I swung the door open, then pushed him inside, giving the corridor one final glance before slamming the door shut and twisting the key deftly in the lock.

I whirled around to find Edward leaning against the far wall, the expression in his eyes unfathomable as he looked at me. His eyes reflected the flickering candlelight; his hair looked brown instead of bronze in the near darkness. The fire in me flared again – something was close to breaking.

He took one step forward and that was all the invitation I needed. I ran into his arms, and his lips met mine, and suddenly I exploded.

He lifted me up, my lips crushed against his, and my legs wrapped around him, my hands in his hair, kissing him desperately, fervently, and urgently, all at the same time. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but my body was doing it for me, my arms around his neck and our foreheads pressed together, both of us gasping but never stopping.

All of me was burning; every single piece of me felt like it was on fire. The fire was boiling in my lips – I could feel my heart beating through them as Edward kissed me, hard, nearly hurting me; but I did not care. This was all and everything that I wanted.

His hands were like hot irons, burning me and branding me where they gripped my shoulders, stroked my cheeks or pressed into my back. Slowly I slid down to the ground, my feet touching the floor but our lips never parting. Edward was pushing me back now, towards my bed, and I went, holding him to me, not letting him go for a second. I did not think I could.

I was so dizzy by the time the backs of my knees hit my mattress I tumbled backwards, Edward falling with me, and he pulled back, gasping. "Bella, breathe," his eyes were liquid emerald, and they held me; I obediently took a breath then pulled his lips back down to mine impatiently. For once, there was no trace of chivalry about the way Edward gripped me tightly, and I was glad.

As he rolled, his body lightly pressing down on mine, I suddenly realised again what he was doing. What his actions were saying.

"Edward," I gasped, ripping my lips away again: I could not help but ask, make sure this was what he wanted – every second was alight, and each was precious, but still I could not help myself. "Are you sure?"

"Time is short, Bella," he murmured back, "We may only have this night – one night out of forever. And I will be damned if I do not let you have anything you want. I may have said before that I wanted to wait until we were married, or you were older, but..." he kissed me roughly, "There is no other person I would do this with but you, Bella – there is no one I could love more than you. So we are doing this now, because..." He suddenly groaned, "I want you, Bella. I want you and I need you and I will have you now, before they take you from me." With that he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me harder and deeper than he ever had before, effectively cutting off all further conversation.

Caught up and surrounded by warmth, my hands found their way to the laces at the back of Edward's shirt, but his hands suddenly stilled mine as I began to pull at them and he moved, separating our lips. "Patience," he said, quietly, rolling off me and bringing my hands down, "We are not going to rush this."

It took me a while to regain my voice as I panted and gasped, "No?"

"No." Slowly he brought my hands up to his lips and kissed them, "We..." he kissed the pulse point on my wrist, "are going," he put my arms up around his neck and kissed the crease of my elbow, "to make," he let go of my hands and slid one shoulder of my dress down, kissing the bare skin, "this," my heart was beating so loud that he could have heard it easily as he slid the other shoulder down, "the best," the tingling was becoming relentless as he gently kissed the corner of my mouth, "we can," he stopped, his eyes an inch away from mine, and he sighed shakily, "because..."

"It cannot last forever," I finished for him, my eyes filling with tears again. "Oh god, Edward," I tightened my arms and kissed him as hard as I could, trying to press myself against him as close as possible. "I love you," I whispered against his lips, tears running down my cheeks.

He kissed the tear trails, "I love you too." I drew in a shaky breath, trying to stop the tears, and he whispered, "Shh, my love, do not cry. It will be alright."

"Can we stop talking now?" I was desperate to feel his lips on mine again, to stop the painful thoughts of the future and just feel the now; just feel him. I did not want to feel anything else.

He answered by ducking down and kissing my neck, "We will make this last forever," he vowed, slowly drifting kisses along my jaw until he reached my lips again, and we kissed each other, desperately, and, in that moment, I believed, just for a second, that it could last forever – that I would be able to be with him, like this, forever.

I let that thought take me over, and, forgetting everything else, I just focused on him. And the tears stopped.

I twisted my fingers into his hair, and his were at my cheeks, then slowly they moved down to my shoulders. His fingers gently brushed against my skin, and they began to burn as he slid my sleeves further down. I let him slide my arms out of the sleeves then pushed the material down to my hips, where it bunched up, crumpling and creasing – none of it mattered anymore. He moved back and kissed my bare shoulders and neck, his hands trailing lower until he reached the place where my bodice met my skirt. He pulled, and it loosened, and then his hands slid up my back, gently tickling my skin and stroking my bare waist. I gasped and my lips found his again, my legs tangling with his and my hands suddenly pulling apart the back of his shirt.

He let me pull it off this time, his hands retreating from my waist for a second, and I gasped again as his bare chest flickered in the candlelight. His muscles were tensed and perfectly sculpted – I had said before that his face was perfection, but his chest was a particularly close second. I ran my hands across his back and shoulders, and it was his turn to breathe raggedly as I slid them up his spine, neck and back into his hair.

Suddenly he kissed me harder, and he seemed to have grown impatient of my bodice, so he pulled at it again, half ripping it apart, then it was cast aside as we moved together again, both breathing hard but never stopping.

Again, I did not think for a second that I could.

Our lips moved together, and his bare chest was separated from my skin by my undergown¸ but I could still feel how warm he was, his skin pressing against me so I was heated up from the inside out. Edward's hands were sliding even lower, and I was trying to keep my breathing steady, aware that we were already spiralling out of control, and trying to care, but not achieving it.

Edward's hands stopped short and he suddenly pulled his lips away from mine, gasping; I could feel him trying to slow it down, and he whispered, his voice hoarse, "Bella...please..." I pulled my hands back, with effort, throwing them onto the pillow above my head and breathing deeply. "Sorry," Edward murmured, lowering himself back down again and grasping my wrists, holding them still, "Slowly, Bells, slowly..." he kissed me again, a little softer, and I smiled.

He kissed me senseless, his lips hard on mine, fingers pinning my wrists above my head whilst his other hand strayed lower and lower. I was ever aware that my undergown was thin and translucent, sweat already wearing it thinner and thinner as my body heated up, my heart racing fast, his eyes all over me. I could not move as my arms were trapped, and I did not care. I let him kiss every inch of my bare skin, his lips marking me, his body pressing against me, bearing down on me, our hips and legs and chests pushed against each other; he whispered to me, over and over again.

"I love you," he murmured, the words repeated in my mind until they echoed through my body, "You and only you...you are so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful, and I love you...oh god, how I love you..."

And oh god, how I loved him too.

The sun was beginning to rise, slow and steady, lighting up my room with a soft glow that lightly pressed against my bare skin, persistent and unmovable, willing me to remember...to remember what was to come. I turned my face into Edward's chest, willing in turn for the sun to go back down and never rise again – I would not care. That way Edward could stay with me, forever.

"Sunrise," Edward said, quietly, and his arms tightened, "Time for me to go."

I shook my head, "No, Edward, please, do not."

He looked down, and he stroked my cheek softly with his thumb, "I must, my love."

I brought my hands up to his face too, "I do not want you to leave."

"Oh, my Bella," he said, smiling crookedly, "You know I wish that I could stay, but I cannot. I have to leave, or I will never leave at all."

"Do not leave at all."

"Bella, you know I must." He caught my eyes with his, and I nodded, knowing I could not stop the inevitable.

I sighed and hugged him tighter, "I wish I could keep some of you with me."

He sat up suddenly, pulling me with him, and I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly. "I would like to give you something," he said, "Something to...remind you of me when I am...not...here." He twisted and grabbed something from the pocket of his coat; I tugged the sheets up around me as he did so, shivering. "Here," he said, holding out a little velvet box. My heart began to race, and he said quickly, "This belonged to my mother...she let me have it, for you. I thought, since I was going to do this anyway, I would do it now."

He opened it, and nestled inside was Elizabeth Masen's ring, the one I had seen her wear nearly every single day of my childhood, and I stared up at Edward. He took my hands and said, "Bella, you know I love you, more than anything, and if we were allowed to be together I would have made sure I had you...forever. Every single day of forever. But," he was whispering now, and I could not take my eyes off of his, "I want to, even though I am leaving, if you'll take it. Just to show that I had you first, even before the Duke." I shook my head in amazement, and Edward grinned at me, "Bella...whenever it is, be it ten minutes from now or twenty years, when I see you again...will you be with me?"

I sighed, and smiled back at him, "You did not even have to make me promise, but I will, Edward." He slid the ring onto my finger, then kissed my hand gently, and I swore to myself then and there that I would never take it off, no matter who saw it. But it made me horribly sad that, in another life, maybe, this would have meant even more for us, yet we had to make do with what we had: promises and words cobbled together, through the hope that, one day, someone might bring us together again.

I twisted my finger so the ring twinkled in the light. "I love you," I whispered, and he nodded, kissing me gently, grasping my waist tightly whilst I tangled my fingers in his hair, wishing that this would be enough to keep him with me.

"I love you too."

"ISABELLA SWAN!" We both jumped and I had to press my hand to my mouth to keep from screaming.

"It is my Aunt!" I hissed, pushing Edward out of bed, "You have to leave, or she will find you! Uncle – he cannot know! You must leave!" He nodded and pulled on his clothes whilst I listened at the door for any tell-tale jingling of keys. She screamed my name again, but I still did not answer, too busy watching Edward fearfully. I turned back, then suddenly he whispered my name from just behind me.

I looked round and Edward was there; he pressed his lips against mine, for just a second, then whispered, "I will miss you."

"I will miss you too, now go!"

He ran to the window, and I looked back at the door, before whipping my head around again to look at Edward. My mind was yelling at me, as he swung the window open, and then everything went quiet. I watched Edward turn again, and his eyes met mine.

All of a sudden the full reality of what was going to happen hit me and I pressed my hand to my lips, trying to keep back the tears and the wild sobs. All the despair and anguish I had been trying to ignore nearly broke my heart in two. I could not do this. I could not. My mind searched for some way out, some way we could be together, but I knew it was hopeless.

"Isabella Swan, open this door right now!"

"Bella!"

I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to stay calm, shaking my head again and again, trying to keep it in. But I could not, and I began to sob, "No, Edward, no...do not leave me."

"Bella, I must," he said, his eyes wild, "I have to!"

"No!"

"Isabella!"

I looked up at him, and he was crying too, his mouth twisted in anguish, standing by the open window. The wind was ruffling his hair; he had never looked more beautiful. "Edward, no!"

"I love you." He turned and pushed the window open a little more, preparing to leave, and my whole body screamed.

"Edward!"

I ignored my aunt's cries from outside and flung myself back into Edward's arms, one last time. He dropped his coat and boots, crushing my lips with his, lifting me off the ground. I clung to him, never wanting to let him go. He kissed me desperately, our tears mixing together, me in my nightgown and him barefooted – his clothes and hair rumpled. The world around us was crashing and burning, but yet everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and I twisted my fingers into his hair, keeping him with me for as long as I could.

He was holding me so tight that it hurt, so tight that for a second I could forget that he was leaving – that I would never be able to kiss him again. That I could never touch him, feel him, ever again. I kissed him harder, not letting him take a breath, and he did not let me take one. We clung together, then, slowly, Edward let me go. "No," I whispered, and Edward pressed his lips against mine – for what I knew was the last time – soft, yet bittersweet.

"I will always love you. Always," he whispered back, squeezing me tighter, "Never forget that."

"I love you too, Edward," I wept, my hands forming into fists against his chest as I cried, not able to stop the intense waves of grief crashing over me, the waves growing higher and higher every time he spoke.

"Be strong for me, my love." I gulped and pressed my face into his chest, trying to at least form a coherent sentence.

"Do not forget me," I finally whispered brokenly, my voice hoarse and trembling.

He put one finger under my chin, "Never. You will see me again." I shook my head, but he held it still, trapping my eyes with his, "Wait for me, Bella. Someday we will be together again...keep a worthy eye on that horizon," he whispered¸ holding my left hand tightly, echoing the words we had used so long ago.

I took that promise and locked it away in my heart right then, "I will."

One last kiss, one last glimpse of his green eyes; one last smile...then he was gone. I watched him climb down the trestle, his bronze hair winking in the sunlight. He disappeared under the balcony and I collapsed, shaking and sobbing, finally letting myself completely go.

I did not know how long I lay there for, curled up with my knees at my chin, crying and crying. The tears would not stop flowing...who knew one body could hold so many? I sobbed and cried, pain burning deep in me...how could I live in a world such as this? A world so full of sorrow and woe, where all one could know was pain, where all that could happen were terrible things, terrible, horrible things that left you sobbing, that left you retching with the bitter, cold, cruel and merciless torture, that clawed at you until you wanted to die.

Because I certainly wanted to. Without him, I did not want to live. I did not want to be alive when he was not there,

Edward's face would not leave my mind, and I had to lie there, sobbing, until my heart had cried itself out. When, finally, the tears slowed and I sat up, slowly wondering what I was going to do without him, one sentence echoed in my mind.

_Wait for me, Bella._

And, in that moment, everything became crystal clear. I knew what I had to do; how I would stay alive until I would somehow find him again. I had to pick myself up, go out there and act as if nothing had happened...did it matter that my heart was elsewhere? It was with Edward, wherever he was going, and I could never give it to someone else.

But still, I would have to do it. I would have to obey my uncle and marry another – if only to keep myself alive. I decided, then, to lock Edward's Bella away; no one could ever find her, because if they did, I would not be able to keep going. The grief and anguish I felt at losing him would overcome me if I did not lock that part of myself away; keep it safe until I found Edward again. I would not allow myself any moment of weakness; lest I should dive down into the depths of my love for him and never resurface...I could not let myself drown.

I twisted his ring round and round my finger, holding it tight; the only thing I had left of him. And I would never let it go. I would keep it safe too, until I could be with him as this ring promised.

I collected myself¸ wiped the tears from my eyes and hurried to my dressing table, pulling out a butterfly pin and twisting my hair into a knot, securing it neatly. "Aunt!" I called, seating myself on my bed as demurely and dignified as I could.

"Isabella?" She opened the door and poked her head through; I turned my empty eyes on her.

"You may tell the Duke that I accept his offer. I will be his wife." I need not have told her – it would happen anyway. I gripped the ring on my finger and closed my eyes, picturing him in my mind, thinking of only him as I repeated, "I will do as Uncle bids me."

I love you, Edward.

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**:(**

**Reviews, s'il vous plait. Yes, I do different languages :D**

**Might be a bit of a wait until the next update - moved on to a whole different chapter of this story, need to get it all written :D While, you're waiting, maybe you should go vote for me for a Bring Me To Life Award? I'm just suggesting ;) Either that or REVVIEWWW. Oh, I ask so much of you...**

**LOVE! ATO xxxx**


	24. The Art of Survival

**Yes, I know it's been a while. Yes, I know it's been nearly two months...ok, I have no excuses, only that I needed a bit of a break from fanfiction, and I've been on holiday :) **

**Hey guys! Hope you haven't completely forgotten about me...hopefully I'll get this story up and running again properly, though I can't make any promises. I am rather flaky :S**

**Anyway - a reminder and an update to all those who have forgotten or who are new (if you're new, please go back to the beginning...it'll be worth it, i promise). Edward has just left, forced away from Bella by her Uncle, who is threatening to ruin the pregnant Alice's new life in London with Jasper. She ran away and Renee went to their Uncle, even thought Bella begged her not to. So, Edward's gone, and this is carrying straight on from there :)**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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**

The next few hours moved as somewhat of a dream – a slow, terrible, heartache of a dream. I was tugged away from my home, from all I had known and never would again, with nothing but a small trunk of possessions, which all seemed so useless now. What good were material things to me when I had lost the only thing I really wanted? Lost the only person in the whole world that I needed? "Is that really all?" Aunt asked me, the poison in her voice for once overcome by curiosity – I assumed she did not know about Edward, or she would be milking my sadness for her enjoyment – and I shook my head, silent ever since Edward had walked away from me. What was there for me to want now?

There was certainly nothing left for me to say.

The long journey to Hertfordshire was torturous – too much time to think, and not nearly enough to keep me occupied for long. I attempted to watch the scenery, the land as it rolled slowly by, but its beauty only served to make my misery that much more poignant, highlighting to me how little the world cared for my troubles by how unchanged it seemed, all green and yellow under a bright blue sky, falsely cheerful. How little anybody cared...it was all so clear now. Edward and I had never had a chance – we were doomed from the start. If I was not so determined not to cry, I would have broken down into reckless, heavy tears many times on that long journey. Needless to say, I said nothing to my Aunt, ignoring her conversation and focusing only on keeping my mind blank – it was mindlessly difficult to tell myself to forget Edward when that only made me think of him more, but somehow I managed it.

As soon as I arrived at my Uncle's I was ushered inside, thrust into a heavy dress, given a foul-smelling bouquet of flowers, then finally tugged underneath a heavily-garbed gazebo and left there to wait, inquisitive guests slowly surrounding me so as to make sure I did not escape. Only then did I sigh and let my body fold a little – I had been silent and blank the entire day, a clean slate for my Uncle to write whatever he wished on. I had allowed them to position me how they wished, dress me how they wished, all the time trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to overcome me, the lump in my throat stopping me from uttering even one word, even if I had wanted to. The speed with which everything was now happening made it all feel rather unreal, that somehow I was dreaming, and I would somehow wake up in Edward's arms, back in my bed, my sister laughing at the breakfast table, and it would all be alright. I stood there, staring straight ahead, trying to understand what was going on around me but completely unable to – I could not make myself believe that I was really getting married. It was too quick for comprehension.

"Bella." Mama came up behind me, touched my shoulder – her fingers were warm against my icy skin, "Bella..." I said nothing, did not look at her, the sudden flare of what seemed to be hatred stunning me out of my emotionless state; I struggled to remain motionless, expressionless. "Bella, please, talk to me..." I felt her tug on my curled hair, pushing a wayward strand back into the complicated bun – I had no idea what I looked like, and I could hardly care, "Please, dearest..." A tear rolled down my cheek, carving a wet, salty trail, and I knew she saw it, because her sigh was low and painful to hear. "I am sorry..." she whispered, agony in her voice, "Oh, Bella, I am so very sorry...you know I love you, dear? Bella, I love you. Bella, please, at least answer me!" But I ignored her pleas, tears still streaming silently down my face, unable to hold them back – Edward, Edward, Edward, Edward...

Uncle pulled her away – I heard him sit her down, tell her to stay quiet – before he announced the arrival of the groom; I sniffed and shook my tears away, setting my feet firmly on the ground and looking straight ahead, determined to, at least, make this foolish sham of a wedding the quickest and saddest I could.

Our wedding night was...awkward. Awkward and rough and bumpy, in all the wrong ways. I could not stop thinking of Edward – I knew how this was supposed to feel. I knew how it could have felt, if only he was here. If only it was him, as I had been wishing ever since he had gone.

As he moaned my name, I bit my lip, silently enduring it, closing my eyes and trying to drift away – as he kissed me I tried not to feel. I hated how he was washing away the marks Edward had made on me, replacing him, tarnishing my own body. At least he could not take away the marks Edward had made in my heart – he had not invaded the part of me that only Edward could hold.

I cried afterwards – after he'd left, looking satisfied in his work. I curled up in a ball, sobbing, missing Edward more than I ever thought possible. It was as painful as when he had first left. I was alone in this giant house, with a husband whom I must satisfy over and over again, even as I longed for another, wanting him and his love so badly that it hurt. I desperately went over that one night I had with him my mind, combing my memories through, trying to remember every single thing about him – to feel all I had felt then, to see his face as clearly and as close to me as I had then...to remember the feeling of his lips on mine, and the heat that had spread through me at every single touch. As much as I tried to hold on to those memories of him, they were slowly slipping away, and I could not stop them.

It had only been one night, since he'd gone.

I remembered the heat between us – the joy I had found in having him so close to me, and knew I would never find it again. My new husband could not ensue even the slightest reaction in me; it was as if I had turned to stone. If he – handsome as I knew he was, and I knew others thought he was, confident in his abilities as he was; he did not stop nor falter even as I failed to fake any enjoyment of him at all – could not give me what Edward had, I knew that no one could.

I could never love another. I had tried, and I had failed.

"Edward," I whispered, his face clear in the back of my eyelids – I could almost taste him on my tongue in that very second...imagine his low, musical voice murmuring back to me.

"I love you, Bella."

I wished so badly for him to suddenly slip under the covers. To be there, against all odds, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his chest, comforting me, his warm body against mine, both of us fitting together like puzzle pieces.

But he would not come, I knew. We had been torn apart, viciously and cruelly – the world had no sympathy for us. We were doomed from the start, and now I was left to live with the consequences of my stupidity.

Breakfast the next morning was a morbid affair – I sat, still and silent, staring at my plate, both uncomfortable and uneasy in his presence; I could not stop thinking of Edward. He was in my mind all the time – beside me, commenting dryly on all I saw and thought, laughing and teasing, talking to me in my head. I was sure that I was going insane, missing him.

"Isabella?"

The call of my name roused me, and I glanced up to find Henry staring at me, "Yes?" I asked, my voice strangely timid and hoarse.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, obvious concern in his eyes: I could have laughed then at the irony of it all.

"No," I said, looking down again, pushing my food around the delicately painted china plate, "Nothing is wrong." A small, heartfelt sigh, "Nothing is wrong at all."

He cleared his throat – Edward would have pressed on until I told him what was bothering me – but he simply launched into a full account of my daily schedule, with no regard for the fact that I hardly heard him. I did not think he noticed.

An hour or so later, after a tour of the house and meeting all of the household staff, I stood before a large group of men and women, all dressed as if for a ball even though it was not even yet lunchtime.

"This is my new wife," my husband introduced me to them all – I supposed they were members of his 'club', the women either their wives or upcoming women of society, "Her Grace, Isabella Delaunay."

The pinched, haunted look that I knew my face held must have made them pity me – think I was young and frightened, pining for my home and for my family. They were all perfectly polite: the ladies curtseyed gracefully before inducting me into their conversation, making small talk, and the men simply bowed before turning away, back to their drinks and banter. My new companions were curious; they asked how I was liking marriage, how I was liking my new home, how my dear Mother was – none mentioned Alice – and they commented on how supposedly beautiful I was looking. I accepted all compliments silently, with perhaps the ghost of a smile, and replied to their questions with only a nod or a shake of the head, not trusting my voice. I did not want to seem weak, and nor did I want to burst into tears in front of these women who I could tell were vicious. How else would they have climbed this high in society? Unmarried women were the most dangerous, especially to me. They had got this far without aid from a husband, and I was sure they would have no qualms in tripping me at any opportunity.

They did not tire of me, even though I intensely wished for them to do so – I was the most important woman in the room, as I would be from now onwards, but that did not mean to say I wished to be stared at. I sat and listened to their conversations, not joining in even though I knew they wanted me to, desperate to know me and become my closest companion, I supposed. Edward continued to whisper to me, Alice joining in, both of them conducting conversations at the back of my mind – his smile, her bright laugh...it was torturous, how much I missed them.

There were a few women who looked to be about my own age, and one of them, a blonde, seemed to have a particular interest in me. As the conversation finally turned away from me, she shunted her chair close to mine, calling my attention. "Your grace?" she asked – I glanced over at her noncommittally to see her smiling at me. "I do not think I got the chance to introduce myself, and you look rather unhappy, if it isn't too forward for me to say it." By the tone of her voice, I could tell she did not really care if it was, "My name is Rosalie Hale. Well, Rosalie Briars now – I was recently married to that man over there." I looked where she pointed, to see a man even older looking than the Duke, standing craned by a window – I could not help how my eyes widened, but Rosalie did not seem insulted. "I thought I might understand how you are feeling," she said, smiling genuinely at me, "Do you miss your family?"

I stared at her for a minute, finding I did not feel so intimidated by her – I let my voice trickle past my lips, slow and careful. "Among others," I murmured, and Rosalie put out a hand, suddenly grasping mine: her fingers were warm, and very comforting.

"I understand. It is all rather overwhelming, isn't it?" I nodded, biting my lip – she squeezed my fingers. "You will be alright," she smiled at me, "I was, and Henry will be kind to you. He is not a bad man: I could dare to say he is better than most you could ever meet." I supposed she intended that comment to be encouraging, but it only reminded me even more of how I had met and fallen in love with the man who was the best of them all. Pulling my hand from hers I turned to stare out of the window, biting my lip and trying to push the memories away, aware I was being rude but not caring too much.

"What is the matter with you?" Rosalie asked, "Isabella? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes," I murmured, without looking at her, staring out over the grounds, dreaming, "I am perfectly fine."

"You do not look it."

I did not really care to answer – I felt deadened inside. Apart from the outside world. I felt as if I were sheltering inside myself, but, truthfully: I was happier there. It did not hurt so much.

Henry, after a month or so of my quiet behaviour, decided that I was homesick, and at once I was carted back to Derbyshire, so quick that it seemed like no time at all before I was ascending the familiar stone steps while he waited in the carriage for me.

I sighed, letting out a heavy breath as I stood in the front hall, bright and empty yet still more welcoming than I could have hoped for. The whole place smelled musty and unlived in, but it was still very much home for me. The sun streamed in through the large front windows, throwing rays of light across the tiled floor – I dragged my fingers across the dusty furniture as I made my way to the stairs, climbing them carefully, revelling in the quiet and stillness. As I reached the top of the stairs I turned, moving to the middle of the banisters and spreading my arms across the cool marble. I sighed and threw my head back, smiling a little to myself – it was incredibly hard not to feel happy there...back home. After a while I could not help but gravitate towards my bedroom, knowing I was pining for the one place in the house that had been totally mine.

After a few minutes I sat on the bed, looking around fondly at my old room – the closet and walls, all stained with the presence of my childhood, from charcoal stains low near the wainscoting where I used to draw as a young child to faded muddy handprints higher up from where Alice had pushed me into a puddle and I had not realised until the damage was done that my hands were dirty. My old blue and white pin-striped windowseat, the cushion threadbare and worn from years of use, the paint on the window starting to chip from where I used to throw it open in summer and let the air and sunlight stream into the room, bathing the floor in golden light so when I stepped barefoot on it the wood was deliciously warm. Even my old quilt still covered the bedclothes, dusty beyond compare. On a whim I stood and quickly pulled it off, hurrying to the window and, after opening it, unfurling the blanket and beating it, clouds of dust swirling into the clear blue sky, disappearing on the wind. I flapped it until I felt it was clean enough to be satisfactory, then I folded it in my arms, smiling to myself as I turned away from the window, leaving it open. Sitting down again I kept my eyes down as I smoothed out all the creases, tugging out stray coils of wool and generally fussing over it. After a while I sighed and sat back, the quilt collapsing in my lap, feeling rather forlorn – everything here was woefully old and unused, so much so that I felt like my past was quietly and slowly disintegrating around me, folding into non-existence before I could even notice. I hugged the blanket to me, trying to push back the feelings, hating them, not wanting to admit they were there, trying to bring back the happy memories of my childhood, washed out from overuse as they were – the woollen material smelled wonderful, like sunshine and musky dust, and lemony washing-powder. Something was incredibly familiar about that smell, and I pressed the quilt to my nose, wondering what it was, trying to indentify it. Sunshine and dust...lemon washing-powder...

When the realisation hit me, it was with such force that I almost doubled over, my stomach tightening and my hand going to my mouth – I threw the blanket across the room and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to push the tears away, choking on the sudden lump in my throat.

Edward...that was his smell.

Heartbreak and unadulterated longing for him broke through my carefully built walls, sending them crashing down where I had spent so long building them up, brick by unsteady, unwilling brick. I may have thought I was forgetting him, slowly losing him as much as I tried to hold on, my memories fading away...maybe I had begun to somehow think that I did not love him as much as I had: but I knew it was all a lie. A farce. Even the faded smell of him was enough to make my heart break again from missing him.

How had I survived for even this long without him? How had I ignored for one small second the emptiness I felt without him, the sorrow and pain that ran so deep it became almost a part of me – a scar that was invisible, but still bleeding profusely, covering me in all that I wanted to forget. His arms, his warmth, his love which burned brighter than the sun. I could remember him so clearly – his smile, his laughter, the feelings of his fingers as they gently grasped mine...his lean body, tanned skin glowing under the candlelight, so close I had imagined he was under my own skin, that we were one entity instead of two. Slowly I crumpled, my body folding until I lay face down on the mattress, tears slowly soaking into the dusty fabric – it tickled my nose, but still I could not gather the will to sit upright, crippled by my sorrows.

Perhaps I had thought that the waves were starting to die down, that the misty, damp fog surrounding my life was beginning to lift – that I could now see into the distance, and know what was there, know where I would be, where I wanted to be. But this...this...torture only went to show how very wrong I was. I was lost, so very very lost, and the sea was crashing down, the fog obscuring everything – I had no idea which way to turn, and so lonely, I realised, that the realisation only made my cries more potent, my sobs more heart-wrenching. All that had happened to me had cut me so deep that in that moment I thought I would never lift my head again.

I missed him. I missed him like the land would the rain in a drought, or the earth would the sun in winter – my world was bleak and empty, devoid of rain and sun, all because he was not there.

"Oh, Edward," I finally moaned into the empty air, lost for anything else to say, tired of thinking my way into countless dead ends – I sniffed, turning onto my side and gazing out of the window, the sun and blue sky seeming false now. Sighing, I let my mind wash clear, let the sunlight in my eyes burn away the images that seemed to be stuck on the back of my eyelids, the thoughts that would not leave my mind. It was slightly calming, and eventually I stood up, shaking my tears away, determined never to collapse that way again – I would put Edward to the back of my mind, forget him...I knew he would never return, and it would do me no good to pine for him.

Still, I could not help but wonder where he was, and whether he was pining for me too. My heart contracted painfully in my chest, and I gasped, fresh tears rolling down my cheeks, and yet again I pushed them back. "No," I told myself, "No, Bella, you cannot miss him..."

I could not help but reach for the quilt as I made for the door, gently gripping the material and pulling it with me – how could I leave even that small piece of him behind? It was beyond my self control, and so I folded it up in my arms, firmly telling myself that I should not press it to my nose and inhale its scent again. I collected a few more inconsequential items from around the house as I made for the door – an old rag doll, a pen that used to belong to Papa, a cushion Alice and I had sewn a cover for when we were very young, which was slightly speckled with blood from where she had pricked me. After I was satisfied I made my way back to the carriage, letting Henry help me in before settling down quietly opposite him, holding the blanket firmly in my arms.

As we set off, the journey was awkward and silent – after a while he asked conversationally, "What is that you are holding, my dear?"

"Oh," I answered slowly, smiling only a little, still very uncomfortable in his presence, "This? This is a quilt from my bedroom – my Mama stitched it for me...I thought it would make my room a little more homely."

"Of course," he smiled, "Whatever you wish – I am pleased you wish to make your chambers more comfortable, and that you are so keen to settle in." Henry reached over, earnest now, and took my hands, "I was so worried you felt uncomfortable in my house, and that is not what I would wish for the woman I care for as much as I do you."

I wished I could feel more than just apathy for him – he was so good and kind, but I could not help but dislike him for the, albeit unwitting, role he played in splitting Edward and I apart. But then again, I was forgetting Edward, so of course it was only because I missed my family. Trying to smile, trying to like him, I nodded. "Of course," I said, "But you should not worry – it has only been two months, and I still feel new to this. Forgive me if I made you feel as if I was unhappy."

"If you are unhappy," he said to me, nodding seriously, the expression of concern on his face wonderfully heartening to see, "Then you must tell me, my dear. You are my wife, and as your husband it is my duty to make you happy."

My smile, even though it was small, was true then, "I am happy you care so much for your duties to me."

He sat back, letting my hands go, "Excellent. Now, let us return home, and we can dine with all our friends – seeing them again makes you excited to be home, don't you think?"

I sighed, the fleeting feelings of comfort dissipating at his words. "Yes," I hugged the quilt closer to me, "Of course."

That night I excused myself early, complaining of tiredness – I undressed myself slowly, lethargically, feeling oddly weary despite the day's monotony. After a few minutes I stood there, in front of the cold mirror in my nightgown. I stared at myself, and the tired, pale girl in the mirror stared back, as confused and sad as me. She gave no answers, instead just watching, and I sighed, reaching up to pull the pile of hair off my head, letting it cascade over my shoulders, soft and floral-smelling. It was rather soothing, and I twisted a piece over my finger – something caught, glittered in the flat plane of the mirror, and I hissed a little as my scalp protested, at once searching pulling my hand away in search of the culprit. My heart grew a little colder as Elizabeth Masen's ring sparkled defiantly from my finger, daring me to do what I suddenly knew I must.

This ring was my connection to him. The only real piece of him I had left. I had refused to let it go until then, but I knew that I could not survive unless I did. If I tried to forget him, maybe at least the pain would be forgotten, even if it never really went away.

Edward was never coming back. I knew I must accept this now, or be lost.

I considered the ring for a long while, gathering my courage before I, as quickly and as painlessly as I could, gripped it, tugged it off and almost threw it into a drawer, as if it were an animal that would try to escape unless I trapped it. I slammed the drawer closed, and breathed in deeply, the sharp tang much bitterer than I had expected it to be.

How could I possibly feel emptier than I had before? I had just answered my own question - I felt almost nothing now, if feeling nothing were to count for something. Edward's ring was gone from my finger, the connection broken: quite officially, I was moving on.

Unofficially – it was killing me.

But, despite all I was trying to forget, I still stretched the quilt out over my bedclothes, and fell asleep with Edward all around me, the ghosts of his arms holding me close to him and his lips on my forehead, his light words in my ear.

"Goodnight, my Bella."

**Four years later**

"Your Grace!" I ignored the immediate swish of skirts and tapping of shoes as the whole congregation around me swept into polite curtseys and bows as I entered the room – the whole practise had become routine now, and after the first week of this treatment I had ceased to be amazed by it.

I was a Duchess. Somehow, even though this right was not born to me, I had become one of the most respected women in England.

It was definitely a far cry from that young, innocent girl I had been before, the one who had been so happy and carefree. The one who had been so happy and in love.

I had learned much more of the world these past four years.

_If he could see me now..._I mused to myself as I moved across the floor, not paying attention to anything but my thoughts, graceful now after much practise and correction by my advisor and my friend since I had arrived in this world, Lady Rosalie Briars. Miss Rosalie Hale, now, I supposed, since her husband had died only a few weeks previously. Reminding myself to suggest to Henry that she stay with us for a while until her accounts were settled, I shook out my hair, nodding absentmindedly at the rest of the room as I descended into my chair which my husband held out for me. Everyone else sat as he did – they were so goddamned obsessed with hierarchy and respect around here – and dinner began.

As it always did – every day was filled with social gatherings, so much so that I could not remember the last time I had a day for myself. Every single day I was required to smile and laugh and make small talk when sometimes all I wished to do was throw myself on the ground and sob...no. No, I did not think like that anymore.

I was a Duchess. Isabella Delaunay. Not Bella. Not anymore.

"So, dearest," that was Henry speaking – I turned, making sure to keep my smile bright and interested, to face the Duke Henry Delaunay. My husband. Being a man of quite a few years older than I, his hair was very dark gray, almost black in colour, giving him an appearance of an older yet still very powerful man. This, accompanied with his relatively unlined face which was marred only by tiny frown lines in between his thick, dark eyebrows which framed piercing, ice-blue eyes, meant that he could be positively terrifying when he wished to be. Certainly I, standing at that altar all those years ago, bound to my fate by my Uncle's dark gaze, had nearly fainted in horror at the man who came to stand before me, his face impassive – I found out later that he was a much kinder and pleasant man that I had expected, once we were alone. He wished for me to be happy, understood somewhat that I was not exactly settled in my new role as his wife.

A pity for him that I already knew I could never be happy again.

But still he tried, which was how I came to find myself, after four years, relatively comfortably married to him. He was not perfect, but not many men were, and he was better than most. He had plenty of mistresses, but that did not bother me – after four years, and no legitimate children on my part, I could hardly expect him to be faithful. I hardly wanted him to be faithful: it suited me well to have other women fulfilling _that _duty for me whilst I lay alone, curled up in bed with my eyes tightly shut, living off memories that would never be again.

Besides, no matter who he slept with, my position was never unstable. Henry Delaunay loved me, in his way, so I was safe.

A pity I could not love him back.

"How has your day been?"

I was shaken out of my mental musings by his question, and I smiled gently, unexcitedly, as I always did. "Very good, I thank you, husband." I shrugged a little, "The weather was unobtrusive, the garden is doing well...we spent a wonderful hour listening to some poetry in the library."

Henry laughed, "As always, my Isabella." He was in a good mood that evening, most likely a product of a good hunting trip and a regular refilling of his wine glass, "I do declare, you almost live outside – you and your ladies do like your flowers, do you not?"

I smiled, just a little, "It is a lovely time of year for them. They are positively blooming." Being in the outside world made me feel free. Happy. Gardening reminded me of...the past. Of those long, luxurious days I spent out in the sun, under the bright blue sky, sometimes chasing the horizon and other times simply twisting flowers into knots and wearing them as a crown. Watching beautiful roses and lilies that I myself had planted grow into bud was something I very much enjoyed – but I never grew forget-me-nots. Rosalie did always say they were more weed than flower.

"And your poetry...I wish you would write some, my dear." He lightly patted my hand, his own rather much colder than I would have liked, "I should imagine you as a rather good wordsmith."

I laughed gently at that, "No, Henry – I have never much had a penchant for words. Granted, I love to read books written by those who do, but...no, I could not write."

"It could never hurt to try," he said, but he was already leaning away – he fancied himself a romantic, but I could never hold his attention for long, not unless he were explaining my schedule for the day or he was in my bed and my clothes were lying like a pile of rubble on the floor. After a second he was already deep in conversation with one of his friends, a Lord or Sir of some kind, most likely – I had given up attempting to learn their names, especially since one had attempted to corner me alone one night. Rosalie had saved me with a very well-timed entrance, but it did shake me: I had actually cried out Edward's name in that moment of weakness, as if he could save me, an occurrence which I had never explained to Rosalie.

"Who is Edward?" she had asked me quietly as she led a still-trembling me back to my room, feeling very young and vulnerable, "Isabella? Why did you shout out for him?"

"I-" I had no answer to that, my heart contracting painfully at the mere mention of his name. Quickly, knowing that the lump in my throat signalled a very near breakdown, I twisted away, slipping into my room. "Goodnight, Rosalie," I had choked out, before I slammed the door closed and collapsed on the bed, shuddering and shaking and wishing I could die.

"Isabella!"

Speak of the devil.

Miss Rosalie Hale rolled her eyes – she was considered a great beauty among these parts, second only to me, but I was sure whoever said that was only being polite. Rosalie's looks were simply to die for. Her hair, blonde and gleaming as so much as sunshine, curled around her shoulders as her bodice curved around her sharp waist and hips; she had ice-blue eyes and an ice-cold tongue to go with it. Her way with words made her even more attractive, and she could win any argument as well as any man's heart. She never kept them, though. Since her husband died, she had been running much wilder than I would have liked – she was a very good friend to me, nonetheless. "Honestly, Isabella," she said, exasperation in her voice, "You would think you lived somewhere else, sometimes, the way you hardly listen."

I laughed, more genuinely this time, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Rosalie?"

She got straight down to business, "Did you hear? There are pair of musicians soon to visit Delaunay House – apparently they are all the rage in London."

I nodded at this, "Yes, Henry told me this morning."

Her eyes were glowing, "Are you not excited? Apparently they are most handsome – Emmett McCarty and...and...oh, blast it, I have forgotten his name. I shall have to ask Seymour."

"Seymour?" I chuckled gently, "The one who always loses at cards?"

She waved away the jibe, "There are many things he does not lose at." I decided not to comment, "Anyway, I wished to ask you – are they going to stay long?"

"I believe so," I answered, remembering what Henry had told me earlier that day over breakfast, "He said that they are newly arrived from the continent, and as yet have nothing but their music and their charm to live on. I think he intends to build something of a career for them, as well as introduce them to good contacts. He seems determined to make something of them..." I sighed, "Him and his fancies. One of these days they will ruin us."

Rosalie laughed, distracting many of the young men around the table, "Not this time, my dear friend. He has invited two very eligible young men to your home: the least you can do is make something of it."

I narrowed my gaze, "What are you saying, Rosalie?"

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but her smile was wicked, "You are entitled to a younger, better looking man. And it is not as if the Duke does not have his..." I raised my eyebrows at her to quieten her, but accepted her accusation. "Bella, you will go insane if you do not, trust me."

"It is easier for you, Rose," I countered, "Your husband died weeks ago. And while we're on that subject-"

"The Duke cannot be far off," she interrupted me, giggling traitorously as I gasped, astounded as always by her audacity.

"Rosalie Georgiana Hale! I cannot believe you would say such a thing!"

"What? It is the truth!" I shook my head at her, and spent the rest of dinner eating so I would not have to deal with her raising _that _subject again. Sometimes, Rosalie was too rebellious for my liking. Besides: I wanted no more of love affairs.

I excused myself early, murmuring something quietly to Henry about how I felt indisposed – he smiled at me, and kissed me for appearance's sake, then let me go.

It was rather a long walk from the dining room to my chambers – I had chosen the most scenic side of the house, rather than the most appropriate. I lived in the East Wing of the house, hidden among the maze of guest rooms, my own room deceptively informal compared to my husband's. Unless you knew where my chambers were, you would never find them, which was just how I liked it. Somewhat of a trek for me, but the unequivocal privacy was worth it. My window overlooked the morning sunrise, filling the curtains with deep reds and light spreading across the walls, meaning I always woke to a new and beautiful day, no matter how terrible I felt when I did awake, leaving my fading dreams behind me. I could spend hours at that window, watching the sunlight play across the lake which shimmered like a mirror a few miles away, bordered by the great forest which my husband so loved to hunt in. Further forward lay the grounds of the house, various fountains and shrubs and flowerbeds, and behind: nothing but the rolling hills blending into the sky, a horizon I did so long to explore. But my world was horribly limited, and I had never travelled farther than London, and that was only on occasion. To visit my sister, a practise Uncle hated, but I had far outgrown him by then. As soon as I took Henry's love, I took Uncle's power over him too.

No punishment, in my mind, had been too great for him, but I had contented myself with cutting him off – it required only a few tears, and Henry was at my mercy. In some ways, I was incredibly thankful for him: being married to him was much easier than I had thought it would be.

I sighed as I slipped through the inner door of my room, to my bedchamber – it was neat, much unlike I had left it, bedclothes no longer twisted from yet another sleepless night, curtains drawn, blocking out the dying evening twilight. Glancing around me, I could tell I was unusually restless. Why else would my mind be tumbling, opening doors that had long been closed, wandering to places that had long since been abandoned, footprints in the sand re-appearing which had long since been washed away by the waves?

It had been so long, since he had left me.

"_Silly Bella," _his voice spoke, unbidden, but only in my mind, _"You have not forgotten me."_

nAnd it was true. I had not forgotten him.

Moving quickly, as if someone could stop me, I hurried to my dresser, pulled open that one drawer I always avoided, feeling unable to stop myself. The temptation was too strong, my imagination already shouting for me to dive into its depths and revel in its fantasies. The drawer clattered open, my fingers trembling a little as I reached in, felt for the cold little circle of silver that was calling for me. Shivering a little as my fingers brushed against the ring, I withdrew it – I bit my lip, feeling a pang of guilt at seeing how dusty and tarnished it was, a mere shadow of its former glorious self. Something that went for both of us, I thought, sighing as I dropped onto my bed, sinking a little into the mass of bedclothes. Crossing my ankles, I sat back, twisting the ring over in my fingers, trying to pretend it was not as important as it had always been, that touching it was easy. That forgetting...was easy.

_Edward..._

Quietly, I blew on his ring, his mother's engagement ring which was always meant for me, rubbed it gently on my skirt until it shined again before I slipped it on, sighing as it settled back on my finger: the place it was always meant to be.

When I had taken it off, a long time ago now, back in my first few months of marriage, I had hoped that I would be better. But yet here I was, still in the same position I had always been, missing him and loving him more than I ever had. I needed to let him go, but still I held on to him tighter than ever – a fact I would only admit in these rare moments of weakness, but true all the same.

"Ugh," I moaned, falling backwards to lie amongst my pillows on my side, wishing for what must have been the thousandth time that he would suddenly appear: that he would slip under the covers with me, put his arms around me and pull me against his chest. I turned my head into my quilt, and almost at once the lemony smell of him filled my head, making me slightly dizzy. There was a reason I was adamant that this quilt would never be washed, and I was lying when I told the housekeeper it was because I was afraid its delicate patterns would be ruined.

I was stuck. Stuck fast and true, and I felt as if while time moved forward around me, I remained still, stuck four years ago with no way of wrestling myself free. It was all made ultimately worse by how he simply _refused_ to excuse himself from my thoughts. All that, and how I always begged him not to go.

Falling asleep was difficult that night, but eventually exhaustion took me – fully clothed, fingers tightly clasped around the cool band of silver and my features set into a frown. Unconsciousness called me in, and, as always, I dreamed of him.

It was always so awful, when I woke up.

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**Yes, I know: I miss him too. :(**

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**ATO xxx**


	25. Seperate World

**This one is a bit of a shortie - sorry, but this was all I wanted to put into it :) **

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**Read on, my brave warriors!

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The next few weeks passed by without incident, as had the past four years of my life: visits to London, mixed with gossip and waltzing and shot through with a few pieces of interest, like an afternoon visit to my sister Alice. It was the height of summer, the streets almost steaming in the heat – I felt as if I were baking under my heavily piled-up hair as I knocked on her front door, trying not to draw any attention to myself. It was a rare occasion when I managed to escape outside alone, but with Rosalie's help I had managed it. Alice certainly did not appreciate it when I brought half of society's elite into her small house, especially when they spent most of their time talking down to her husband and running their fingers over her spotlessly clean mantelpiece.

In fact, it was a rare occasion that I could even find spare time to visit my little sister, even though I felt as if every minute of my day was wasted through inconsequential activities like gossiping or walking. In my mind, this was a much better way to spend my time – if only anyone else would agree with me. London was not a fashionable place to be seen in – it was far too hot and crowded, bustling with markets and filled with skinny street urchins that tugged on ladies' skirts and made them squeal in disgust.

I sighed, attempting to ignore the sweat beads running down my back as I knocked again, waiting for someone to answer – sure enough, within a matter of seconds, a cross voice could be heard. "Could someone _please_ answer the door?" That was Jasper, probably working on something important – you would never hear Jasper raise his voice above speaking level unless he was particularly hassled. There was the pattering of small feet, then Alice and Jasper's four-year-old daughter Olivia answered the door, with a smile that could rival that of the sun.

"Aunt Bella!" she cried, at once throwing her arms around my legs – she was taking after Alice in height. I laughed and ruffled her golden hair, which was teased into her normal blonde curls, neat and tidy as always.

"Good morning, Olivia," I smiled, tugging her off gently and hoisting her into my arms instead as I moved inside, "My, how you have grown!"

"I can sit in a big chair now!" she exclaimed, her smile widening – I noticed her words were crisp and precise, her gaze intelligent: she was taking after Jasper in that respect. I swung her up and down in my arms, if only to hear her laugh in delight, laughing with her.

"Can you? How very grown up of you."

"Olivia Whitlock, how many times do I have to tell you-" Alice came running into the hall wielding a wooden spoon, quite obviously meant for whatever ill-meaning stranger whom her daughter might have let into the house. She stopped shrieking abruptly as she caught sight of me at the door, her eyes widening. Then she grinned, her smile lighting up her face, "Bella!"

I laughed and dropped Olivia, who scarpered at once as she hurried over, her dress and cheeks stained with flour, "Hello, Al! I suppose my letter never reached you?"

She threw her arms around me, "No, but what of it? It is wonderful to see you! I have missed you so much!"

"I have missed you too, Al," I replied happily, pulling back to appraise her appearance, "You look wonderful!" It was true. My younger sister had completely abandoned our wealthy life when she married Jasper, our once coachman, coming here to live in a modest London home. They did not have much money, that I knew; Jasper was a lawyer in a council court – not a well-paying profession - yet she could not have looked happier. Her dress was simple and comfortable, yet beautiful, as always; her hair was cut in the short style she had always preferred. I knew from her letters she had one maid, who cleaned, the job she hated, but Alice did the cooking.

She was glowing. It had been so long since I had seen her.

She laughed, "Not as beautiful as you, Bella. Look at you in your finery!" I made a face, tugging off my absurdly plumed hat, and she laughed again. It did not have to be said that I was infinitely jealous of my sister. Able to act how she wanted and be who she wanted, with the man that she loved. She was so much freer than I.

"You know I always hated fancy clothes," I laughed a little before moving forward to hug her again, folding her tight in my arms and sighing. "Oh, Alice, I missed you so much."

"Two years is a very long time," she replied, hugging me back – we stayed that way for a long time. I was reluctant to surrender her comforting embrace, warm and familiar: she was the only person left in my world that I could be completely myself with, and as I pressed my face into her shoulder, I found myself tearing up at the thought.

I had forgotten how good my little sister was at making my troubles seem much easier to bear. Only when they were gone did I realise how heavy my worries had become – I laughed a little, tearfully. "Look at me," I sniffed, pulling away only to find tears on Alice's cheeks too; she wiped them away with the back of her hand, laughing slightly.

"Look at _us_," she added, "Weeping like a pair of old maids."

I sniffed, then laughed too, "If this is what happens whenever we see each other, I can see why I avoid you."

She elbowed me, smiling wryly, "Do not be rude. You may be a Duchess, but this is my house, and in my house, you are simply my older sister."

I laughed, "As you wish, little sister."

"Bella!" Jasper appeared then, smiling as genially as if it had only be three days since we had last been together – as if no time had passed at all. He moved forward and hugged me: I felt rather swamped by his tall frame, but appreciated the gesture all the same. "How nice to see you," he said, his voice calm but eyes warm, "We missed you."

I remembered then why I had liked Jasper so much – he had a talent of making anyone he met feel very welcome and wanted in his presence. Quiet as he was, his smile and general optimism was infectious. It was not hard for me to understand why Alice had fallen for him. "Has Alice even offered you some sort of refreshment yet?" Jasper carried on, moving to stand beside her, smiling fondly down at her, "Or has she been talking at you so much you cannot get a word in edgeways?"

"We were having a sisterly moment," Alice replied, feigning annoyance, "That is, until you came along and spoiled it."

"My apologies," Jasper grinned at us both, "What I a careless husband I am. I rather think I might go hide away in my study, just so as to not be such a chore for you."

"I think you might," Alice bantered on, whilst I rolled my eyes, settling my weight on one foot and waiting for them to finish – knowing Alice and Jasper, this could go on for hours, but I was luckily spared by a cry from Olivia.

"Papa! Papa!"

Jasper sighed and shook his head, "Excuse me." He turned to make his way up the stairs, disappearing around the corner with a cry of, "What did you break now, Olivia?" I giggled to myself whilst Alice sighed, a smile on her lips.

"Men."

Five minutes later we were both curled up on a couch in her sitting room – I was gazing out over the deserted street beyond the window as Alice sipped her tea, seeming to be content to be quiet. After a minute or so, though, as I knew she would, she put her cup of tea down and called my attention with a gentle pat on my arm.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"How are you?" Alice asked, her blue eyes serious and soul-reaching; I sighed, feeling as if all my troubles were spilling out in that one breath of air.

"Truly, Alice?" I shook my head, looking down at my fingers, chipped and broken from how I had nervously chewed at them, "I am miserable." The confession was so blunt, so frank, that I was abruptly struck by its acuteness. It was true: I was miserable.

Totally and completely miserable.

This emotion filled me, and after a second of silence, I suddenly burst into tears, pressing my face into my hands and sobbing. For the first time in these past long months, I felt broken and vulnerable. Alice was a piece of my past, something I always tried hard not to think about, but her presence made it all flood back to me, reminded me how scared and lonely and _sad _I truly was, how much I hated it here. Alice reminded me of what I had lost, and she was the only one who knew...she patted my back gently as I broke down, crying out the only sentence worth saying.

"Oh god, Alice," I murmured, unrestrained grief colouring my voice for the first time in years, "I miss him so much!"

"I know, Bella," she said, patting my back gently as I sobbed my sorrows out into my fingers, "I do too." She sighed, "Oh, Bella, I am so sorry: this is all my fault."

"No," I shook my head, sniffing, my voice broken even though I tried to make it strong and firm, "No, Alice: none of this is your fault."

"Yes it is," her voice was sad, "If I had just been less selfish..."

"No, Alice," I lifted my head even as fresh tears streamed down my cheeks, trying to impress upon her what I was trying to say, "Alice, I never blamed you, not once. If anything, you were the smart one – you left, you had the good sense to throw it all away for what you knew would make you happy." I sniffed, my voice breaking again, "It was far too late for me."

"Oh, Bella," she took my hand, squeezing it in both of hers, "You know it is going to be alright, don't you? You have your friends, and I am always within reach if you need me. And Edward," she smiled, but the smile was unsure and unsteady, "He will come back, Bella."

"No," I said quietly, having considered these possibilities many times, over and over again, always with no success, "No, Alice, he will not. Even if he did," I shrugged gently, helplessly, "I am bound to Henry for the rest of my life."

"No," Alice shook her head fiercely, "No, Bella, you are not: as soon as Edward comes back, which he will, you can go with him. Bella, you can run, far away to where no one can find you – it is as simple as that."

"What if I have children, Alice?" I asked her desperately, "I could not leave them."

"Then do not have children," she said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, "Bella, there are ways...and besides, between you and me," she leant in, smiling a little, "If you were to have children, it would have been apparent by now."

I sighed, "Still, Alice..."

"Oh, Bella," she sounded exasperated, sitting back and blowing her hair at me, "What are you afraid of?"

"What if Edward never comes back?" I asked her, my voice breaking as I considered the unthinkable, "Alice, what if I never see him again?"

She shook her head, "I refuse to believe that. Edward will come back, you know him: he is as stubborn as you are, or more so, and that is definitely enough reason."

"Then why hasn't he? Alice, why hasn't he?"

"He cannot," she fixed me with her gaze, "He will not stay away. Not for long, anyway. Bella, you know Edward – you love him, and he loves you, and you know he will not stop at anything until you are together again. Do you hear me?" I tried to shrug and look away, as had become my habit nowadays when I wanted to avoid a question – Alice knew me better. "Look at me, Bella," she said, her voice stern, slightly reminiscent of my mother's, "Do not try to hide away from me: I am your sister. You cannot ignore what I say as you do with everybody else, however much everything may have changed." I sighed, but obeyed – she glared at me for a second longer before shunting forward in her chair, grabbing my hands in hers again and squeezing them tightly. "Edward loves you," she said, her face serious, dark eyes holding mine, "He will come back for you."

"What if I want to forget him, Alice?" I murmured, knowing it was not true but unable to stop myself, "What if I do not want him to come back?"

She raised a brow, smirking at me, "You were always a terrible liar."

I held her gaze for a second longer before I gave in and sighed, smiling wryly, "I know."

"Everything will be fine, Bells," Alice said, "Trust me. Now, let us stop with this moping and move on to the subject at hand," she grinned, "Me!"

I laughed then, my spirits lifted, as they always were when she was around. "Yes," I said, sitting back in my seat and wiping the last of my tears away, "Of course. Go on then, Alice," I smiled, "Tell me everything that I have missed."

"You must come and visit us again soon, Bella," Jasper smiled down at me, one arm around Alice's shoulders, who was nodding vigorously.

"Most definitely! No more two year absences, do you hear me?" I laughed and nodded, before moving to pick up my little niece who was clinging to my skirts, handing her back to her mother.

"Perhaps you could all come and visit me," I said, "So I can show off what a beautiful little niece I have." Olivia giggled as I tugged on her hair gently, and Alice smiled.

"Of course. Just name the date, and we will be there."

"Within reason," Jasper added, his exasperated expression prompting me to laugh again.

"Of course. Within reason." I smiled and took a step back, gently settling my hat on my head before moving to open the door – Alice put down Olivia and came forward to hug me one last time, wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me tight.

"I love you," she murmured, smiling up at me, "Never forget that, Bella. I will always be there if you need me."

"And I you," I replied to both her statements, feeling yet another wave of gratitude swell for my little sister. Honestly, I really did not know where I would be without her.

"You are always welcome here if you need somewhere to stay," Alice said – the offer seemed redundant, as I could not think of a time when I would be homeless, but obviously Alice meant something by it, so I smiled back and nodded.

"Thank you. And you behave, miss!" I called to Olivia, who blushed, but smiled sunnily all the same.

"Goodbye, Aunt Bella!"

I opened the door and took a step out – the sunshine had faded and clouds had been drawn over the sky, grey, hanging low over the rooftops. The air was smoggy and thick, and I grimaced before turning back to smile one last time at my sister and her family. "Have a good journey home, Bella!" Alice called as I moved down the steps, then the door closed and I was left alone on the dirty pavement. I looked back, feeling as if I had just switched worlds: that I was leaving one that I wished I could be in forever. Then I remembered my position, as well as the weather, and started off at a quick pace, already thinking of what I had to do the rest of the day to take my mind off the dejection that was forming in the pit of my stomach, stirring in the back of my mind.

I was too absorbed in my thoughts to notice where I was walking, following the cracks in the cobbled street – I did not see the man going in the opposite direction until I walked straight into him. We bumped shoulders, but I could hardly stop and apologise, since I was late enough already. "Oh," I glanced up for a second to see a tall man, face shadowed by a cap, body cloaked in a worn grey coat, "I am so sorry, sir. Excuse me." I was off again before he could reply, hurrying for the cab that was waiting just around the corner – if he had said something in return then it was lost in the wind, floating away on the air.

"Bella! Bella!" I heard the sudden calls as I settled in the carriage, the door slamming behind me – I frowned, turning in my seat to squint out of the back window, wondering who was shouting my name. It sounded like Alice, but I could not stay to find out, the carriage already moving off, swinging around the corner with an audible screech. I sat there for a minute longer, staring out across the street, wondering whether I had been imagining it, but then I decided that it could not be important, settling back down in my seat and closing my eyes.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened to me anymore.

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	26. Time

**Sorry, guys...I know it's been another long wait :( All I can say is I moved into a new year at school and work has been piling down on me - literally when I'm not working I'm sleeping, or trying to at least leave the house :P But I'm getting there.**

**Hoping to get back on track now - eeeeeeepppp here is some lovely Edward POV. I hope you enjoy it :)**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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The rusty creak of aging bedsprings and the slamming of a door across the hall from my room greeted me as I rose groggily from my dream, my body starting at the sudden noise. I was slightly dizzy from sleep, and looked down to find I was tangled in the bedsheets – there was, as ever, arguing from next door, creaking from across the hall and a noise akin to a herd of bulls pounding down the corridor downstairs.

What else could you expect from cheap lodgings in the cramped, hot and bustling centre of Barcelona?

I shook my head and glanced around the simple but comfortable room, only to find my roommate and best friend of four years, Emmett McCarty, was not around – yet another observation that did not cease to surprise me. It was often that I woke like this, jolted awake by the noises of the city and the bustling house around me that I had never quite gotten used to. Thrown awake in what was not yet night but too far gone to be evening either, the heat lulling me to sleep late in the afternoon but then forcing me awake again late at night. I had watched many sunrises over the past four years, and spent much of that time reminiscing.

Sighing, and shaking my hair from my eyes, I started up, untwisted the bedclothes from around me so I was able to stretch my body out. I pulled my arms up, yawning slightly as I did so, watching the muscles in my arm tense and relax as I pin-wheeled them round, trying to work out the ever-present ache between my shoulder blades. I wandered past my chair and desk, piled high with sheets of paper in various stages of decay or simple neglect, all smattered with notes and staves and bars and treble clefs. The chair was neatly stored underneath, and there was a worn trunk at the end of the rusty bed that held all my worldly possessions. That, in itself, was not saying much. As I made for the open window, a long, wide affair that could easily throw you out if you were not careful enough, sending you plummeting down at least three stories before you hit the sun-and-feet-hot pavement below, I attempted to forget the dreams that were still ghosting through my mind, carrying voices and faces and words from long ago. Of course, I knew exactly to whom they all belonged.

"Edward..." Her soft voice called to me – her laughter rang in my ears, fingers ghosted against my skin...I could almost feel her lips against mine on the warm air of the open night sky. I remembered every single kiss she had placed upon me: every single smile. Forget her? I smiled lightly to myself, shaking my head a little. How could I ever forget her?

I sighed, leaning against the wall and staring blankly at the ceiling, lost for anything else to do. Four years had changed me, more than I thought they could. Four years without her. And what lonely years they had been.

If she could see me now, I thought to myself, she would think me a changed man.

After that dreadful, woeful morning, when I had to kiss her goodbye and climb down from her window, I could not bear to think what lay ahead of me. As I bid farewell to my parents, my mother crying unstoppably and my father swearing he would not rest until I was home, I wondered at how I had managed to get myself into such a mess. Forced away from my own home, walking blind into the world with nothing but the promise of a girl to hold onto. The promise of a girl who was marrying another, who was to become a Duchess...she would wait for me, I told myself then. She loved me. She would always love me.

Of course, I had no idea what I was going to do until I returned. Bella's Uncle knew who I was, and I was sure he would be watching out for me – I could not simply waltz in there two weeks later and take Bella away, much as I longed to. It would endanger my parents, Alice and Jasper, Bella herself...I was forced into selflessness, just as Bella had been, while everyone else around me was allowed to be happy. The whole situation was a bitter taste in my mouth as I stepped onto a ship bound for Calais at Dover, having traversed what seemed half the moorlands of England to get there.

Bella would probably come with me if I asked, no matter what would happen to everyone else...but another fact that was staring me full in the face was that there was no way I could support her. Neither her, nor a family that I knew I would one day have with her, no matter what it took. I was on that ship to France in order to make my fortune, as many others were. As far as I was concerned, there was no point returning until I could whisk Bella away and have the money to support her – I could only hope that her husband would be dead before I returned, because I could not put Bella in disgrace by having her leave her husband. To bring up a family that way, I knew, was most definitely not a good idea.

So that was all I could do. Leave, focus on my career for a while, and hope that fate would not keep me away too long.

Of course, I had not considered that it would take four years. That time would slip past me like sand through my fingers, and I would suddenly find that it had been four years since I had left her and I had no idea how the days had passed so quickly.

I met Emmett McCarty, a particularly large man of Irish descent, on the passage over and we quickly became fast friends. We were well suited to each other – he needed a mind like mine, I needed a friend. He was a fiddler, I was a pianist. We both aspired to make something of ourselves, albeit for different reasons (he had some issues with his father), and from then on we were partners. We played in various clubs and bars across Europe, never staying in one place for too long, but a year ago we found our niche here in Barcelona. A nice, well paying little place, filled with local people who enjoyed our rather more tasteful style of music. And so life went on.

I found myself rather at odds with the world – Bella drifted farther and farther from me, until she was nothing but a memory, and my feelings for her remembered but not exactly trusted. I began to not trust myself as the days went by, until I was lost and confused, yet still grieving for her.

It was not as if I hadn't tried to be with other women – in those moments of weakness, when I hated Bella and all that she stood for...when the feelings of loss and grief became too much to bear, and I lost all rhyme and reason and became almost mad with love for her. Then I would run just as wild as Emmett, always trying to find a way to escape the pain, to numb the way I felt about the girl I had lost. Sometimes I felt replacing her would solve everything, but I gave up on that practise just as quickly after I realised it was a fruitless effort. No woman was equal to her; I knew I would never love anyone like I loved her, and the idea that she could be still waiting made it impossible to let her go.

Emmett, of course, never understood – for two years I had stayed away from women, by my own choosing, and it bewildered him. He, of course, had no trouble finding womanly company, and so I found myself alone in our small set of rooms quite often. Not that I minded – I had plenty to think about, plenty to imagine and plenty to despair over.

I had become broody.

"Oh, Bella," I murmured, moving to lean against the balcony and stare out over the sprawling city, the stars watching over us all, tiny pinpricks of light shining out of the inky black sky, "Where are you?" I stayed that way for an immeasurable moment, then a crashing noise brought me back to reality.

"Edward! Edward!" I turned as Emmett came skidding through the door, waving a nondescript sheet of paper around as if it were the holy grail, "Get over here and read this!"

"What is it?" I asked him curiously – Emmett was not a quiet fellow, but it took something rather significant to get him quite so riled up; he stuffed the piece of paper into my hands, the corner slicing through my finger in his haste. "Ouch!" I hissed, "Emmett, what on earth-"

"For God's sake, I will read it!"

"What?" But he had already snatched it out of my fingers again, flattening it out in his giant paws of hands. I sighed exasperatedly and crossed my arms, running my fingers through my hair, still rubbing my injured digit, "Well, go on, then. What does it say?"

He began to read excitedly. "His grace, the Duke Henry Delaunay," my heart dropped into my stomach, my hands tightening into fists – it could not be, "And his wife, her grace the Duchess Isabella Delaunay...blah, blah, blah..." Emmett seemed totally unaware of the effect his words were having on me – my heart was racing, ringing in my ears, my body almost trembling at this new development. I could barely believe what I was hearing, but yet it seemed to be true. "Cordially invite you to be guests in his house upon your return to England!" Emmett whooped excitedly, "We are going home! Edward, is this not wonderful?" He looked to me, obviously expecting some kind of agreement – but that was beyond me. I was lost in memories, suddenly overwhelmed by them, unable to see or hear anything around me.

"What?" I murmured, dumb with confusion, lost – Emmet rolled his eyes at me, gripped my shoulders.

"Edward, we are going home!"

I was going back. To England, to my home...to Bella.

"Edward?"

This was beyond my wildest imagination, so much so that I could not believe it was actually happening.

"Edward, man: are you alright?"

"Alright?" I choked out, almost dumb with joy, "Alright? Emmett..." I laughed then, the sound bubbling through my throat, "Emmett, I am overjoyed!"

"I knew you would be!" Emmett, it seemed, was more excited for the both of us, so I let him dance about the room while I sat down heavily on the bed, holding on to the bedpost to steady myself. I was overwhelmed – everything I had dreamed of in the past four years was happening so quickly, more so because I had not expected it. Yes, I knew Emmett and I were rising higher and higher as news of us spread across the channel by word of mouth, but I could not have imagined that Bella's husband himself could have heard and, by some twist of fate, decided he wanted us both as part of his club.

Perhaps Bella had heard of us...of _me_...perhaps this was her doing. I could hardly believe good fortune could have smiled so on us both, but if it was true – I shook that thought away quickly, not daring to hope for as much.

I was going home, and that was more than enough to believe in, for the moment.

"When do we leave?" I asked Emmett, who had, on a whim it seemed, picked up his violin and started playing a hornpipe tune, bright and merry – the music halted for a minute as he answered me, grinning from ear to ear.

"Tomorrow."

"So soon!" I gasped – Emmett had resumed playing, but nodded. I fell back on the bed, breathing deeply, unable to stop myself from smiling too. If all went well, I could be back with Bella in less than two days! After four years of waiting, I had not expected my reunion with her to happen so quickly. I remembered my parents then, my friends, Alice, Jasper...I was going home to all of those that I loved and had missed so much, and I was almost giddy with joy.

"Back to the British lasses we go, Eddie-boy!" Emmett carolled, dancing a jig in time with his rampant melody; I made no reply, just laughed with him, thinking of how there was only one British lass I was willing to go back to.

"Come on, Edward," Emmett, not being one to pay attention to a single thing for more than a minute, had already dropped his violin and was throwing clothes and books and music alike haphazardly into his trunk, which was already overflowing, "We must pack!"

I rolled my eyes, moving over to try to still his hands before he made an even bigger mess. "Emmett, stop it," I told him, "We have the whole night to pack – I think we should go downstairs for a drink, to celebrate."

"Yes!" Emmett was back on his feet at once – I could not help but smile exasperatedly at him."

"Go on," I said, "You head downstairs and find a seat – I will be along in a minute."

"And maybe a couple of girls to go with that, I think," Emmett winked at me; for the first time I was unable to even attempt to smile enthusiastically, my mouth dropping instead into a grimace – Emmett sighed.

"Come on, Edward – I know you are not exactly a happy man, but we are going home! I do not see why even that will not lift your spirits...a woman is a good thing, remember? Come on, man, or I am going to start to think there is something wrong with you."

"There is nothing wrong with me, Emmett...I am happy," I replied, but not convincingly enough – he crossed his arms.

"I do not think you are."

"Emmett..."

"It makes no sense either," he said, "We are going home, and yet you still refuse to do anything other than mope in here all day and all night. What is wrong, Edward?" he came to stand beside me, "What is it that you have not told me? We have been friends for four years, and still I know nothing about you...what is it that you are declining to say?"

"I do not want to mess around with women, Emmett," I said stiffly, "Is that so wrong?"

"It is unnatural."

"Emmett...please, just leave it." Emmett sighed, but I knew he would do so – he was not the type of man to sit and listen to someone pour their heart out, not unless it would allow him to go home with her. Women and wine were the only two principles he lived by, and I knew he was only irritated and questioning because he did not understand why I did not agree with him. "One day," I said to him, "You are going to find a woman that you want to be with forever – and you are going to find that all the mischievous girls in the world are not going to satisfy you."

He shook his head, then turned away and left without replying. I sighed, and returned to the window, knowing I was going to have to apologise – Emmett was a gentle soul at heart, and any disagreement, however small, always upset him. But then, I was irritated at him. Who was he to upset the first happiness I had felt in four years with his idiotic misconceptions about women? Who was he to remind me of the sadness I felt, of all I had lost...no. I shook my head, refusing to let the misery overwhelm me – I was going back to them, to my family, my friends...to _Bella_. There was nothing that could upset me now.

I stood, looking out over the world, and smiled.

It was our last performance at that jumbled, crowded little club where we had made our living for the past two years – after a first hour of our normal, lively jigs and polkas, the tables began to fill with tired men and women, and Emmett began to call for a solo. Everyone else gladly joined him, as they always did, and there was nothing I could do but roll my eyes and oblige.

I sat down, took a breath before realising I had no idea what to play. My fingers trembled across the keys, which were a pristine ebony and ivory at my own insistence – I was not one to play a dirty instrument, so this piano was kept to the upmost standards. I stroked the soft wood gently, drawing my fingertips across them, trying to gage what they wanted to do. Most of the time, unless I was given a particular request, I played whatever I wished to: at that moment in time I was so confused, so jumbled and muddled, nothing was coming to me. I did not glance up, hoping my confusion could be seen as a moment of artistic inspiration. In reality the only thing that was running through my mind, all I could think of...was her. Her voice, her face, her laugh...the next day I was travelling straight to her, by the request of her own husband!

Excitement and nerves had me trembling, my world tumbling: I was most certainly not in my right mind, but abruptly something came out of the blue, out of the depths of my memories. A melody that had been long since forgotten, by my own choosing – music that I had not wanted to remember. My fingers began to move of their own accord, teasing the music that was trumpeting in my head out of the strings of the piano, so the room was filled with the sound as it worked its way into reality. Her song echoed across the walls and ceilings, lifting me into some state of mindlessness until all I could see and hear was her.

I played and played until I was completely spent, all the passion seeping out of me at the last note like water spilling from an overturned jar. It rang through the room, and I found I was panting, gasping in air with no real relief, suddenly very aware of the silence around me – my stomach tightened, and abruptly, ignoring the stunned silence, I shoved my chair back with a loud, jarring scraping noise and pushed out of the room, feeling a sudden, terrible sense of inevitability.

I lay face down on my bed and cried for what must have been an eternity. Certainly, by the time I looked up, my pillow streaked with dark tearstains, it was even darker outside. I huddled up beneath the bedclothes, not sure what exactly had come over me – it was as if I had experienced the pain of leaving Bella all over again. Felt what I had felt then, twisted and exaggerated over time even though the memory was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The helplessness, the pain, the anger and the sorrow...and the love.

Always the love.

Emmett could not understand when he found me in the morning why I was so forlorn – even I could not understand my feelings fully. I was returning home, to Bella, and surely that should mean I would be happy...but still I felt the weight on my shoulders of all my worries, and the knowledge that even now there was only a small chance I would ever be with her again. Who said she did still love me? Who said I would even be able to see her? My doubts had free reign, which led me to snap at Emmett irately as we boarded the ship to England, our steps bouncing on the wood suspended between the quay and the deck.

"We are on our way, Eddie-boy!" Emmett carolled as we embarked, almost skipping across the gangplank whilst I followed in his wake, shrugging deeper into my coat so as to be as inconspicuous as possible – Emmett was now dancing...he had never been one for proper behaviour.

"Emmett!" I hissed, grabbing him on the arm and holding him still, "I know you are excited, but could you please control yourself? Everyone is staring at us."

"And why should they not? In a few months we shall be rich, Edward: known all across the world as the greatest musicians there ever was!"

I rolled my eyes, "I think not, if you continue behaving as you are – we are entering into high society, Emmett: there can be no more of your shenanigans. If you wish to be 'rich," I certainly did not, "You will have to gain the approval of the harshest men and women around. And I am sure that you never will if you insist on behaving so childishly."

Emmett sighed, tugging his arm away and straightening up to his full height, nearly a head above my own – as his normal smile disappeared he abruptly became distinctly more threatening. What else could you expect from a giant such as him? "Edward," he sighed, shaking his head almost despairingly at me, "Why are you always so...square? Would it be so hard for you to just let go once in a while...you walk as if you are carrying the whole world on your shoulders. We are travelling musicians-"

"_Were _travelling musicians, Emmett," I corrected him, suddenly tired of his careless words – they had me roused: he knew nothing of my past, and it irritated me when he spoke as if he did. "Not anymore. I never wanted to be a gypsy in the first place. I did not choose this life." Emmett, as always, did not catch on to the pain that lurked behind my words – he did not reply, except to give me a despondent look, then he spotted two relatively well-dressed ladies and was gone in a second, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A few silent hours later, we hired a coach to take us to London, where Emmett had family and I had an address, slipped into my pocket four years ago the night Alice left us. I had found it in the morning, but declined to mention it to Bella, trying to tell myself that I would never need that address...sometimes, Alice did have some sort of foresight about these things. After a bumpy carriage ride and a hasty goodbye where Emmett and I agreed to meet in a pub I had already forgotten the name of, I hastened through the busy roads of London, looking and looking and feeling as if I was standing on the point of a knife, my whole existence about to topple into an unknown oblivion.

It took me an hour or two, and a very grumpy policeman's rather vague directions, but I finally arrived at the place I had been searching for. I studied the street sign carefully, so as to be completely sure that I was in the right place – I did not want to go wrong now, not when I was so close...

The little scrap of paper was dented and stained from how much I had handled it over the past few days, turning it over and over in my fingers, studying the little scribble of an address over and over until it was burned behind my eyelids. After a second or two I nodded, before heading off down the street, pulling my coat tighter over my shoulders, even though it was easily too warm for it under the bright sunshine. I felt slightly nervous, apprehensive, after being away for so long – I was studying the cracks in the pavement so intently that I did not notice a woman walking the other way until we crossed shoulders.

She barely glanced up, obviously in a hurry. "Oh," she said – something in her voice seemed familiar as she continued, "I am so sorry, sir. Excuse me." She was gone before I could get a good look ather, and although I moved away as she did, I could not help but look behind me, back at her. She was not particularly tall, her rich clothing showing she was a lady not of the city, but of the country...her masses of mahogany locks, all piled up on top of her head haphazardly, reminded me somewhat of Bella's, and I supposed that was it. Even so, I had to force myself to turn away, to carry on the way I was going – it was a mystery to me, why she had been so interesting.

I forgot the strange encounter as I reached my destination – the door stood innocently at the edge of the pavement, a dark green in colour, adorned with the numbers seven and two. Taking a deep breath and feeling a certainty that I was on the brink of a new era, that everything was about to change: I raised one fist and knocked purposefully on the sun-warmed wood.

The door was opened, and as soon as Alice set eyes on me, her mouth dropped open.

"Edward?"

I barely had time to even smile before she screeched my name again, "Edward! Oh lord!" She threw the door open and threw herself out onto the street, dashing back the way I had come – at once I followed her, wondering what on earth was going on.

"Alice?" I called to her, even as she ran full tilt down the road, as if something hellish was chasing her, "Alice!"

"Bella!" I stiffened as her name echoed off the rooftops, "Bella! Bella!"

Had...had Bella just been here?

I slumped on the step, cradling my head in my hands, unable to handle such a cruel twist of fate if this was true – I had been so close...

"Edward...oh, Edward, you just missed her...she quite literally just left!" Alice was distraught as she hurried back towards me, "Oh no...oh no, if I had just kept her longer!" She continued speaking, but it all faded into a slight buzzing as I realised again...that woman, the one I had bumped into in the street, that accidental, fleeting meeting...that had been Bella.

And I had let her go.

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**:O EL GASP!**

**Soooo yeah...that sucked :P Please leave a review, I would like to know how you're feeling about this story etc etc...even one word would be awesome :)**

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**ATO xxxx**


	27. A Land Far, Far Away

**HUZZAH! It is done!**

**Seriously - this has been in the works since I started writing this story a year and a half ago...I've had this waiting on the sidelines for SO LONG it's almost unbelievable. OMGGGGG :D I'm really happy right now. I've been waiting to get this out :) I don't care if it's terrible - I'm proud of it :)**

**Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to review!**

**Read on, my brave warriors!**

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"Tell me why you are here again, Alice?" I asked my sister a week or so after I had visited her, sipping uninterestedly at my tea – it was rather lukewarm, and she only smiled beatifically, sitting there, curled up on the sofa opposite me. She had been mum on this subject throughout the course of the day, ever since she had turned up this morning and forced me out of all my social engagements. The reason? I had absolutely no idea.

"I wished to see you," she said mysteriously, "Is that so wrong?"

"No," I reached out to drop another cube of sugar into my tea, if only so I could look away and attempt to gather my thoughts – I stirred the liquid thoughtfully, "Of course not..."

She laughed, "Do I need a reason to visit you, Bella? I worried about you – I wished to know that you were alright."

"Alice, I have been alright for the past four years." I sighed, "Just rather dull. I do wish you would visit more often, even if it is as secretively as this." I laughed a little and she laughed with me, her voice ringing much higher than mine.

"Well, your life will not be devoid of excitement while I am gone, sister," Alice smiled, "After all, you have those musicians arriving tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes, "Why everyone says I should be so excited, I shall never understand..." I cut myself short, realising something. "Alice," I asked, "How did you know about that? I never told you they were coming."

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but I saw it before she rearranged her features into nonchalance. "It is everywhere in this house, Bella," she laughed, a little forcibly, "Why, I have heard at least three accounts of it this morning! They are supposed to be rather handsome," her eyes twinkled wickedly, though I could not think why – Alice should have known better than anybody that I was not going to dally with any meaningless men.

"Why should I care?"

"No reason," she looked away, but she was smiling – I sighed before dropping the subject, deciding that if she wished to be opaque then the subject could not be of much interest to me. Alice was not one to hold back information if it was very important. I hoped, anyway. Besides: there was only one piece of information that could be of any value to me anymore, and Alice would never hold it back from me. But I had long given up on the possibility of her arriving with any news of him, so the whole thing was irrelevant, really.

There was a shout for us, and Alice sighed. "That must be Jasper," she said, standing up and smiling sadly at me, "I should be going."

I nodded, "Of course."

Alice moved forward and hugged me tightly. "Do not be sad, Bella – you will see me again before long."

"I just wonder how I shall survive without you," I replied – she laughed, a strange reaction, I thought.

"You may not be alone for long, Bella, that I can assure you."

I had no time to question her on her cryptic words before she was out the door, waving me goodbye with a smile that could rival that of the sun – she jumped up next to Jasper who shot me a small grin before whipping the horses into action. As I stood, watching the carriage slowly trot down the driveway, Rosalie came up behind me.

"You seem like a different person when you are with your sister," she observed – I shrugged, and replied without thinking.

"I am who I used to be."

"Why are you not like that now?" Rosalie asked, innocent of the long tale of woe she had just touched upon – I feigned nonchalance, pretended that it did not really matter, as I always did.

"Everyone changes when they marry, Rosalie: you know that."

Rosalie sighed, my opacity obviously too much of a strain for her to unravel – instead she murmured, "I like your sister; I wish we could see more of her."

"Honestly, Rosalie?" I said to her, gazing wistfully after Alice, heading home in her little horse and carriage, wishing I could follow her there, "So do I."

* * *

"Isabella," Henry boomed to me across the table the next morning as I was picking uninterestedly at my eggs, the regularity of it all making me rather indifferent, just as it did every morning. The food seemed rather gooey, and I felt oddly repulsed by how the meat seemed almost gray, and how its flesh glistened a little; I sighed, pushing the bacon nearly off my plate and putting down my fork. When Henry carried on I attempted to listen, folding my hands in my lap and smiling unenthusiastically as he spoke, "As you know, my dear, we have visitors arriving today."

"Yes, Henry," I sighed, smiling a little but resisting the urge to roll my eyes – he had felt the need to inform me of this every morning this week, "I know."

"And, of course, you are aware of what must be done?"

"Yes, yes," I began to poke at my eggs again, knowing he could plenty provide both sides of the conversation for himself – all that was needed from me was a murmur of agreement and an occasional, albeit small, smile. He carried on as I had anticipated; I took a bite of the eggs, the salt and peppery flavour dancing across my tongue, not expecting to be surprised as Henry tossed words at me from down the table. I was just about to take a sip of water when something he said had me almost spitting it straight onto the Persian carpet.

"Their names are Emmett McCarty and Edward Cullen."

I knew there was no chance it could be_ my _Edward, but even to have Henry mention his name had my heart racing, my mind, unheeded, twisting reality in my imagination to think of what it would be like if his name had been Edward Masen instead...that he was really coming back to me...it took a minute to calm my racing pulse before I choked out, attempting to sound indifferent. "Cullen?" Edward was a word I could never say in front of my husband, and Henry nodded, seeming pleased.

"Yes – he is a new addition to my club. He is a musician: plays the piano quite beautifully, I have heard. His friend plays the violin, though I am perhaps less interested in that, but he could be a valuable asset."

"Another new addition," I murmured, even as my heart picked up again, "And musicians...how...how..." I had trouble thinking of anything else to say, my heart excited and my words failing me, sticking in my throat: but luckily Henry steamed off again quite happily.

"Quaint, nice, yes, yes, I know how much you women love your musical types." I let him chuckle, keeping my gaze trained on my plate, trying to maintain a facade of indifference. I could not let him see how much one name affected me – I remained silent throughout the rest of breakfast, allowing Henry to talk as he would, bowing my head as usual when he left me before slumping in my seat, letting out a heavy breath.

This was far too much excitement for me.

I decided abruptly that I would go to my room and lie down for the rest of the day – I told myself it was in the interest of my health, rather than avoiding this 'Edward Cullen' man that I was sure I would end up meeting. As fate would have it, I would probably meet him alone, and that would be far too much for me. Luck was never on my side, and I was sure I did not want to see this man at all. My decision made, I stood up and quickly headed for the door; a chattering from the other end of the main hall told me that my husband and his club had gathered, and with a gentle, exasperated sigh I made to turn away.

Familiar music began to drift through the hallways, sultry and sweet, sparking memories of a past that had been forcibly forgotten – I stopped in my tracks, turned and stared, wondering where the melody was coming from. There was silence as the melody slowly wrapped itself around me, nearly stilling my heart when I realised why it was so familiar to me.

My song. This was my song.

"No," I murmured to myself, shaking my head, "No...it cannot be..."

My curiosity got the better of me as the music sung on, and I lingered in the doorway, waiting for it to end, telling myself that as soon as it was, I would run and not look back. But the song began to embrace me, filling me up so I lost my grip on reality, falling into memories that I had forgotten I even remembered – Edward smiling, running with him, playing pirates on the bank of the stream...kissing him, touching him, lying in the grass with him...I closed my eyes and dreamed, finding I was smiling. Was this happiness? Had I remembered what it was, after so long? I was so lost in my own mind that I did not notice the music had ended until the chatter began again, and I squeaked in surprise as the door at the end of the hall crashed open.

I quickly retreated backwards into the shadows as my husband's club of men began to file in small groups out of the music room – my heart was beating fast as I watched them carefully, hardly able to believe my suspicions were even possible. Henry was in front with a tall, curly-haired man, leading them all to the garden, I expected. There was a whole pack of them surrounding what seemed to be one man, all laughing and patting him on the back. A flash of bronze caught my eye, then the edge of a cheekbone, a hint of what looked like a worn grey coat – I squinted, desperate to see who was there, but the crowd was just too tight, and as they carried on down the corridor I turned away and groaned, sliding down the wall, unable to handle the shattered hopes yet again. Sitting there for a long minute I gazed at the door which was slightly ajar, a low beam of light slicing onto the floor – I got to my feet and, after checking no one was around, slipped inside.

The room was large and bright, the perfect setting for a piano such as my husband had managed to acquire – it had most definitely been recently used: the lid was open and the keys were still warm, the slight indent in the cushioned seat evidence of someone having been here. Moving to the instrument which sat proudly in the middle of the room, all polished mahogany wood and elegant carved legs, adorned with ebony and ivory keys, I drew my fingers across them, a note sounding in the air every now and again as my finger tripped against one too hard. Eventually I sighed and pulled my hand away, wondering what on earth I was really doing in there – perhaps I was looking for something, but I had no idea what it was. I stepped away slowly and my foot slipped against something on the floor: I looked down to find that it was a page of sheet music, crumpled from where my heel had scraped against it. Picking it up I flattened it out gently, unable to read the cacophony of notes scattered across the lines that stretched across the page – I was about to pick it up before an approaching voice called out, "Forgive me, Henry, but I believe I left a sheet in there!"

Quickly I put the sheet down and made for the other door that led towards the other wing of the house – I was not quick enough, and even as I pulled the door open and made to hurry through it, the door opposite closed with a sharp click. But my escape was made, so in a flash of skirts I was gone, shutting away whatever was in the room behind me and beginning to run as if something hellish was chasing me.

I was not exactly sure why I was running, but I supposed, as tears began to run silently down my cheeks, it was something to do with the past. Holing up my bedroom, I sat and waited for my tears to dry against the pillow, trying to place the feelings that were racing around inside of me – but it was not to be. By the time I managed to sit up, wiping the last dredges of water from my skin, it was dark outside. There was the distinct sound of the men arriving back – I stood and moved to the window, pressing my nose against it and attempting to see what was going on. All I could make out were several tall bodies making out for the front doors, escorted by two footmen holding torches: I would know their names, but shadows made their faces nondescript. I recognised their general gaits, though.

I knew the names of the two men I did not recognise, stragglers at the back of the group, their forms unknown to me: Emmett McCarty and...Edward Cullen.

In some attempt to glean more information on who the latter was I opened the window and leant out, pushing my body to the waist out into the cool night, so much so that I could easily have overbalanced. Still, all I could see were the men ascending the stairs – one was almost bouncing up each stone step, chatting what seemed to be enthusiastically with one of the footmen. The other was further behind, alone, the light on him enough to see how he was gazing around, as if he were intent on seeing everything he could. I leaned out further, squinting and trying to see his face...then, if only for a second, he glanced up and I was sure he saw me, hanging out the window. I gasped and yanked myself back in, slamming the window shut and collapsing onto the floor as I tripped over the carpet – I groaned as I picked myself up and found my face was burning, though I could not understand why.

"Oh, goodness!" a chambermaid, Angela, had just opened the door – I hoped she had not seen my fall, but from the way she rushed to my side, I knew she had. "Your Grace, are you alright?"

I sighed, "Yes, yes, of course – it was just a fall."

She smiled, "One of many, if I may say so, Ma'am."

I really did pay attention then – not many maids had such a tongue for wit. "Excuse me?"

"Oh," she blushed scarlet, "I am sorry, your Grace...I do not know what came over me."

"No, no," I smiled at her, trying to be reassuring – I had never gotten used to how much fear I could instil in people with the slightest harsh word, "It is perfectly alright."

"If you do not mind me saying so, Ma'am," she carried on, moving to the closet to pick out a dress that I was obviously going to be wearing this evening, "I have heard tell that the Duke does worry about your 'lack of equilibrium'. She laughed a little, "He worries you will hurt yourself one day."

I spread out my arms as she unlaced the back of my daygown and slipped it over my head, before beginning to re-tighten my corset. "I have been falling over all my life," I told her, "And I have not once suffered anything worse than shaken pride." She laughed again, but said nothing more, obviously focused on the complicated laces that made up the back of my evening gown. I stood still and let her dress me, used to this treatment after four years, before letting her sit me down and begin to draw a brush through my tangled hair. "So, Angela," I said conversationally, bored of the silence, "What are you planning on doing tonight?"

"Me?" I did not miss her blush in the mirror, "Well, Ma'am...I...well...do you know Ben, one of his Grace's cook's assistants?" I shook my head, and she smiled nervously, "No, I would not think you did...he is taking me out to the town tonight."

"Oh!" I smiled properly then, "Really? How exciting for you."

"It is, Ma'am – I do like him quite a lot, and I have been waiting for months for him to ask me."

I sighed, knowing the look on her face very well – I had seen it, staring back at me in the mirror many times. First love, the happiness that it could be returned, joy and nerves and anticipation all welling up inside until I felt fit to burst...I could not help but feel jealous of the girl who could not be older than me, who was going out with the man she loved while I was stuck this way. But then the moment passed, and she stepped away. "There, Ma'am: all done."

I stood, and inclined my head to her as she curtseyed. "Thank you, Angela," I said to her, gazing at her young face and wondering whether if, in another lifetime, we could have been friends – she seemed like a very nice girl.

"My pleasure, your Grace."

I moved quickly, hurrying down the stairs – a ball was being held, heralding the arrival of my husband's coveted musicians. Besides, there had not been a gathering for at least a week, and in this house that was most definitely viewed as a travesty. I sighed, repeating to myself the mantra I had lived by ever since I had joined this world. "Dignified at all times," I murmured under my breath, shaking back my curls and settling my shoulders, "Dignified at all times." Then I nodded to the footmen with their gloved hands on the doorknob, and with one loud fanfare of words, I held my head high and swept into the room.

"Your Grace!" was the general murmur – I nodded in assent, grace coming almost too easily now, before the crowd turned back to their conversation and I was accosted by women and men alike. About five minutes later, my husband shouted over the noise and laughter; I froze where I stood, in the middle of conversation with a Lord I did not know the name of.

"May I present, my honoured guests, newly returned from the continent today: Mr Emmett McCarty and Mr Edward Cullen."

The world seemed to slow as I turned towards the door, unable to stop myself – all I was aware of was the racing of my heart in my ears and the heavy beats pulsing through my body, making my hands shake and my breathing hitch. They were so alien to me, these feelings, that I almost collapsed from their intensity.

I hardly saw the tall, curly-haired man standing next to him: I saw the flash of bronze hair, the shockingly green eyes...and it was him. Edward was there, standing in the doorway, in his grey coat and a deep green velvet waistcoat – the coat I had bought for him, years ago, laughing and saying it matched his eyes. His hair was longer, but still that wonderful, unmatched shade of bronze, and it still stuck up everywhere, unruly to the highest degree. He was a little taller, and his name had inexplicably changed, but, apart from that, he was still my Edward.

"Edward," I breathed, hardly able to believe it: that he was here, standing in the doorway as if it were the simplest thing in the world for him to do so.

Memories began to flash through my mind; running through the grass with him, swimming with him, laughing with him...that horrible morning, when he had to leave me. It was all still clear in my mind and I was finding it hard to believe that Edward, the only man I'd ever loved, was actually here. It hurt just to look at him...to be reminded of how much I had loved him. Of how much I still loved him. I wondered what he was thinking – I could hardly tell. It had been four years, after all. I twisted his ring around my finger nervously, not able to take my eyes off him

His eyes were roaming the room, searching for something – Henry was talking to him, but he did not seem to notice. I stared at him, biting my lip, praying that he would see me, praying that he would at least look at me, praying that our eyes would meet, after all this time, then...what? But then his eyes caught mine and it took all I had not to drop everything and run to him, fling my arms around him and never let him go. All I wanted in that moment was to feel him close to me, to feel his heartbeat against my skin and his kisses on my lips...I had missed him so much. The tight corset was restricting my breathing, and I struggled to breathe deeply, his eyes on mine making me react in ways that I had forgotten. Edward, never breaking our gaze, inclined his head slowly, just a little, smiling crookedly, and I smiled back timidly. I knew that was his way of telling me he still remembered.

My heart began to pound harder as he said something to my husband, then they made their way down the stairs, disappearing into the crowd. I twisted my fingers together and glanced around nervously, wondering how many had seen our interchange, before turning back to the Lord whose name escaped me.

"Are you feeling alright, your Grace, if you do not mind me asking?"

"Oh, yes, sir," I smiled, trying hard not to let my nerves show, "I am sorry, but I really must go and greet this guest...if you would excuse me?"

"Of course, your Grace." I hardly heard the man leave, I was so lost in my thoughts, and as people surrounded me I began to lose my grip on reality, noise and movements and bodies all pressing in on me. I breathed deeply and tried to calm myself, but at once my heart was set racing again by a new voice.

"Isabella!" I heard Henry calling, "Come here, if you will. I have someone I want you to meet."

I felt rather than heard Edward come up behind me; I did not have time to even collect my thoughts, let alone decide on something I could say to him. I steadied myself, trying to still my rampant emotions, attempting to fix my face into an impassionate mask, then turned. Dignified at all times, Bells...dignified at all times.

"Edward," my husband said, "This is my wife, Isabella."

And there he was. Edward. The boy I had fallen in love with, all those years ago. My best friend. I nearly fainted right then and there at the expression on his face - he had not changed at all. He was still devastatingly handsome, his eyes still held that familiar twinkle, somehow fixing me to the floor even though he was barely looking at me. "Your Grace," he said, achingly politely, taking my left hand instead of the right and kissing it. I tried to ignore the heat that spread up my arm, and attempted not to blush as his fingers brushed the ring on my finger – the only ring on my finger. The one that he gave me, all those years ago.

"Sir," I kept my voice steady, feigning my usual indifference even though it was a struggle to keep my breathing steady, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Cullen."

"Likewise, your Grace." He smiled gently down at me, and my heart skipped several beats. My dreams of him had not done him justice. I could understand the meaning beneath both our words – all the things we could never say in the presence of others were buried underneath our polite greetings. This was torture. The only thing I wanted to do was to fling myself on him, wrap my arms around his neck and cry into his shoulder, or scream, or twist my fingers into his hair and kiss him until I was so dizzy I could not stand straight. I wanted to feel him close to me – to make sure he was real. To make sure he was really here. If anything, I thought to myself as I stared into his eyes, I loved him more than I had when I left. If only I could tell him...

"Well," my husband said, seeming satisfied, "I will leave you to talk with Edward, Isabella. He will be staying here for quite a while, so you will be seeing a lot of each other." I did not know whether to be happy or sad about this.

"Yes, your Grace," I said, in my usual quiet tone, feigning indifference, flicking my gaze to him for a second in acknowledgement before turning back to Edward. Henry nodded and then he was gone.

I was aware of all the guests around Edward and I, watching us curiously, and I realised he still had my hand, and was squeezing it tightly. I pulled it away gently, regretfully, cautioning him with my eyes. He must understand; we could not be caught out, not now. He nodded infinitesimally again, before asking, quietly, "Your Grace, would you care to dance?" I nodded quickly, knowing this could be our chance to talk – and I desperately needed to talk to him again. Glancing around, to make sure my husband was occupied; I took his hand and let him lead me out onto the floor. "Are you any better at dancing, your Grace, since we last met?" Edward chuckled as he took my hand and wrapped the other round my waist.

I shivered, unused to the burning feeling in his touch, then gave him my best glare, "I do believe, sir, that I have improved since then."

"Really?" He raised one brow and I blushed.

"Well, I do make a point of only dancing with certain people, who are more used to my..."

"Calibre?" he cut in, grinning and I smiled back. As the music started up I cleared my throat and prepared for the usual, formal dance, but, to my surprise, the musicians struck up a waltzing tune. Edward sent me a look before pulling me a little closer, and I was suddenly reminded of my thirteenth birthday – the time Edward and I had first waltzed together. This felt the same: right. It felt no different than it had then. This was Edward – nothing had changed. Nothing at all.

The music was loud, and there were many people dancing, which gave us the cover to finally talk properly. Edward slowly moved towards the shadowy corner of the floor, encasing us both in near-darkness, before leaning down, and asking, simply, "How are you?"

I looked into his eyes, bright even in the darkness, and replied, just as simply, "I am well." That was a lie – my life had been less that well without him, but I wasn't sure that was what he wanted to hear.

"Bella," he said, using my name for the first time; I recognised his tone. It was the voice he'd always used when he saw straight through me, "Truthfully?"

He gripped me a little tighter, and after glancing around again to make sure we were not being watched, I looked back at him and whispered fervently, "I have missed you."

His eyes grew very soft, and he murmured back, "I have missed you too."

He looked as if he was about to say more, but I was aware of a few couples watching us, and I hissed, gripping his hand tightly, "Not here." He nodded and we carried on dancing. I tried to look as if Edward and I were simply enjoying pleasant conversation, when really all I wanted to do was drag him out into the dark garden and have my way with him, to put it crudely.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the gently sensation of Edward twisting his ring round my finger slowly. I looked back at him, but his eyes were fixed on the ring, watching it glitter subtly in the candlelight. "You kept it," he whispered, his gaze moving back to mine, and I nodded minutely.

"Of course I did."

"Does the Duke...?"

"No. I told him it was an heirloom of my mother's."

"Is she...?"

"She died," I said quickly, before he could continue, "A year after you left."

He sighed, "Bella, I am so sorry." His thumb gently stroked the top of my hand; the only thing he could do to comfort me, and I nodded, wishing he could wrap his arms around me instead and hold me tight, keeping the pain at bay as only he could.

"I know. I am too."

We danced in silence for a long time after that – I had nothing I could say to him that would not betray us, so I simply focused on his touch, the feeling of being in his arms, luxuriating in it. Then, suddenly, the music ended. Edward let me go, and bowed formally – I had to fight a moan of regret. "You were right," he said, as I took his arm and he lead me back into the crowd.

"About what?" I asked him.

"Your dancing." He kissed my hand again and smiled, "It has improved."

I laughed, for what felt the hundredth time that night. It felt good to be happy again, "Thank you, sir; I do appreciate that, from someone who is as accomplished as you." We spent the next few minutes making small talk – it was infuriating, when all I wanted to ask him I was unable to. It was hardly polite to start interrogating someone about their travels in public. I would have to save that for another time. He seemed to be getting frustrated too – he kept running his hands through his loose hair, a habit I knew meant he was restless. I caught his eyes, and found they were burning. "Edward," I murmured, wanting so badly to reach out to him, but then the dinner bell was rung and we were forced apart; I had to stop myself from staring at him across the table, keeping my eyes firmly set on my food.

After dinner, when everyone else convened in our reception room and began the usual drinking and gambling, I excused myself and went out into the garden. The night was very warm, as it was the height of summer, so I left my shawl behind and leant against the balustrade at the bottom of the garden stairs, hidden by the darkness, breathing in the humid night air and gazing up at the stars. I let out a great sigh, resting my head on the cool stone and trying hard to keep my emotions at bay.

Why did it have to be now? Why did it have to be here? Why couldn't he have found me on a desolate hill somewhere, so I could have run to him and thrown my arms around him and kissed him until I could not stand straight? I moaned and covered my face with my hands, letting the wind gently coast past me, becoming almost as still as a marble statue in my attempt to take stock of my feelings.

A while after I heard the garden door creak open, and I turned to find Edward walking down the stairs towards me, my wrap in his hands and his crooked smile on his face. "Hello," he murmured, smiling gently, the words horribly anticlimactic – I sighed, releasing my hands and letting them drop to my sides, standing completely still.

"Hello."

He held out my shawl and I took it from him, wrapping it around me even though I the night was very warm. I smiled shyly at him, unable to think of anything to say - Edward smiled warmly back at me, hands now in his coat pockets. "I see you have gained some performance skills, since I left you," he said – I nodded tersely.

I was sure the comment was intended to be humorous, but laughter was well beyond me. "Yes," I said nervously, fidgeting as a silence quickly stretched across the makeshift corridor, lit by moonlight and banked by tall rosebushes. I hated the sudden awkwardness between us – the silence, the memories: it was all too much to bear.

He was so different. I suddenly felt as if I hardly knew the man who stood there before me, and yet I somehow loved him more than life itself. He was a stranger to me: but at the same time he meant more to me than anyone ever could. It was the strangest of experiences, and one that I had no idea how to handle. Standing there, feeling slightly afraid of him and yet wanting to kiss him so badly that it ached...it was a strange mix of emotions, and a potent one at that.

I just had no idea what to do.

"So," I eventually murmured, my heart picking up as he smiled, "You...joined his grace's club?"

He nodded, amusement in his eyes. "I did," he confirmed, "He has been kind enough to offer us rooms here for as long as we need them."

I already knew that, but for the sake of this odd politeness between us I pretended to be surprised. "Oh," I replied, "How quaint." I could almost hear his inward laugh, and I had to stop myself from pounding myself on the forehead with the palm of my hand. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much I wanted to hear...so much I wanted to do, but I could not bring myself to do it – to make myself so vulnerable, so open, when before it had been my undoing. I bit my lip, wanting to cry, I felt so confused and unhappy: of all the things I had imagined, all the situations I had dreamed, this had not been one of them.

Silly of me, to assume that Edward and I could go back to how we used to be. Life did not work that way, which was a lesson I had had to learn the long way around.

"Come," I murmured, taking his hand carefully, shuddering a little at its warmth and familiarity, "We should move." I pulled him away into the depths of the darkened garden, even as couples began to move onto the balcony – we were hidden by night's shadows, which allowed me to grip tighter on his fingers as I lead him away from the house, to the very bottom of the large gardens. We passed trees twisted into monstrous shapes by the moonlight, hedges that were more formidable now than they had been before. The small river that banked the left side of the house glistened in the starlight, the willow trees bending over it like men bending scrupulously over their work, hanging branches delicately twisting in the light breeze. When we were far away enough from the house, disappearing into the leafy maze of willow trees, I stopped – I realised I was still holding onto his hand, and I dropped it abruptly, wrapping my arms back around myself and biting my lip as silence draped itself over us.

There was a minute of stillness, unspoken words hanging in the air; I could hardly look at him, I felt so lost for words. "I..." I began, but I trailed off, unable to think of anything to say – Edward looked at me for a second longer, his face unfathomable, then slowly, so slowly I could hardly tell what he was doing until the gesture was complete, he lifted his arms and held them out to me. And I, choking back the sudden lump in my throat, picked up my feet, tripped across those few steps to him, and threw myself straight into his arms, almost knocking him down with the force at which I hit him. Almost at once he lifted my chin with a finger and pressed his lips to mine – there was an almost perfect silence as he kissed me there under the shadows of the willows, the whole world disappearing in favour of him. Edward's lips were warm and soft, his kiss so perfectly divine that I could not help but kiss him back deeper, press myself tighter to him, wrap my arms tighter around him: he complied, lifting me off my feet, hands at my waist that held me close to him. I had no idea what was going on, no clue why or how he was here, but in that moment all I could do was hold onto him and kiss him back.

Eventually I was too breathless to continue, the world spinning dizzily around me, emotions and faces and deep green eyes taking over my mind until I felt as if I were drowning. I buried my face into his shoulder as he hugged me tightly to him, both of us standing there in the other's embrace; I was crazy and confused, sure I had somehow lost my mind, but nothing would have convinced me to move from him.

"Bella..." I heard him murmur – my heart raced wildly as he pulled my head up again, pushing my hair back from my face and smiling down at me, "Oh, Bella."

He kissed me again, and I kissed him back as much as I was able, but it was all becoming too much for me. My eyes began to water, a single tear dripping down my cheek – Edward noticed, and as he pulled back to gaze at me I glanced down, unshed sobs choking me, making it hard to breathe.

"Bella?" his fingers were on my skin, gently stroking my cheeks, "Bella, what is it? What is wrong?"

"Edward, I..." I trailed off, lost for anything to say – then, as I glanced up at him, the truth came tumbling out. I was unable to hold back any longer, and I burst into heavy tears before pressing myself to him and sobbing into his chest, "I thought you would never come back!"

"Bella!" he murmured, sounding not entirely surprised, "Love, please do not cry...come now." He shushed me gently, holding me to him, hand gently stroking the back of my head, his warm touch incredibly soothing. "I am here now...oh," I felt him rest his cheek on my hair, pressing me closer to him, "I missed you so."

"I missed you," I cried in return, "I missed you too, Edward." He let me cry against his chest for a while – I listened to his heartbeat, trying to regulate my breathing to it, pressing myself close to his chest but still feeling so fragile and breakable I was sure I might dissolve into a thousand tiny pieces if he let me go. I was shaking in his arms, and he could feel it – I could tell by how he sighed, sounding exasperated. His arms tightened around me, holding me closer, and I heard his quiet whisper.

"I love you."

Those three words roused me, set my heart pounding and my head spinning – I abruptly drew back, anxiety and apprehension making me frightened of the look in his eyes, knowing what it meant...what it could mean for me. I was at a crossroads, but I was too afraid to make the leap. "What are you asking of me, Edward?" I asked, cowardice making me question what I knew to be true, my tears drying as he distracted me with the heat in his voice and the burning in his eyes, "Edward, what do you want?"

"You know exactly what I am asking," he said, "What I want." I shook my head nervously, my breathing ragged, confused.

"Edward..."

"Come back to me, Bella," he whispered again, holding me with his eyes, "Be with me again, as we were before." He took my face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs against my skin, stroking the soft patch beneath my eyes, "Be mine, just as I was yours."

"Edward, we cannot," I stumbled, unsure and unhappy, trying to step away, "Edward, I do not think..."

"Bella," he slipped his hands down and held me roughly by the shoulders, his eyes burning, stopping my words in my mouth, "Do you still love me? Because," he sighed, but it sounded more like a growl, fierce and powerful, "Oh, by god, Isabella Marie Swan: I still love you." I stood there, trembling in his arms, completely stunned by him, his refusal to use my given title, drawing me back into the past – my mouth opened and closed, but I could not find any words to fill the heated silence.

"Edward, I..." I struggled out, knowing what I wanted to say as I gazed into his eyes – his grip tightened, and I trembled harder, losing my grip. "I," I stuttered again: but then he moved closer, and I gave in to my desires – they made me brave, and I whispered the only thing I could. "Kiss me again," I breathed, threatening to fold right there and then, "Edward, kiss me..."

"Your Grace..." even those simple words elicited a shudder from deep within me, breathing in jaggedly as he gazed down at me – he reached forward, gently dragged his fingers across my cheek, pushed my hair back from my face and cupped my skin in his warm hand, rubbing my cheekbones with his thumb. He smiled a little, and I smiled too, leaning into his touch and closing my eyes, as cat would in the sun. After a moment I felt him lean down, slipping his other hand under my chin, holding me there as he pressed his lips against mine – this kiss was soft and gentle, yet it set me aflame.

To hell with it. To hell with all of it. From that moment, I was determined: nothing would ever part Edward and me again. I would not let it. I would take him back, and I would never let him go.

I was not so young anymore.

I kissed him back, smiling more now, one hand pressed flat against his chest, his heart beating through my fingers, while the other wrapped around his neck, holding tight to the soft locks at the back of his head, keeping him with me. He pulled away but kept our foreheads pressed together – at once I spoke, wanting to tell him, wanting him to know how I felt, more now than ever. "I love you too, Edward," I said, laughing breathlessly as he smiled, "I love you so much."

"Nothing has changed?" he asked me, no doubt in his voice but asking me anyway; I kissed him again before murmuring against his lips:

"Nothing at all."

He smiled, his nose rubbing gently against mine, and I laughed gently, biting my lip as I gazed up at him, unable to stop a wide grin spreading across my face.

* * *

We burst through my bedroom door, kissing desperately, hungrily, Edward holding onto me so tightly that I was sure it would leave bruises, but I did not care. I wanted them there, as evidence that this was really happening; that we were finally together, after four long years apart.

There was a surprised squeak from behind me, and I broke away, spinning round, my heart thumping unevenly, expecting to see my husband there, but it was my maid, Angela. "Oh," I breathed, flushing a deeply undignified rose colour as Edward took a shallow breath behind me. "Angela..." She would not say anything.

"Your grace," she said respectfully, but there was something slightly mocking in her tone, as well as a sly smile playing across her lips, "I did not mean to interrupt."

I swallowed, clearing my throat, "That is quite alright, Angela. Would you be so kind as to inform his grace that I am indisposed tonight?"

I knew she understood the double meaning behind my words, and she nodded slightly, moving towards the door; Edward slid out of her way, his eyes downcast, and she curtsied to him, "Sir."

He raised his head, his eyes twinkling amusedly at me; Edward never missed a thing, "Ma'am."

She nodded, then left; I heard the outer door shut with a soft click. Edward closed the door behind her and turned to look at me.

I was suddenly struck then by the magnitude of the situation, and I dropped down onto the bed with a soft, "Oh." Edward remained still as I pressed my hands to my face, pushing my fingers against my eyes, "Oh lord...what am I doing? What are we doing?" I looked up at him then, seeing his form, firm and ever so real, no flickering at the edges, perfect down to the last degree. "You are here," my voice was suddenly raspy, a moan, "You are _here_."

He nodded, "I am here."

"I missed you, Edward," I said to him as he sat down beside me – as if he did not know, "So much."

"I missed you too, Bella," he murmured in reply, "I missed you every single day. Do you hear me?" He took my face in his hands, his eyes locked with mine, "Every single day. I thought of you every single day. There was no moment in the last four years when I wasn't loving you, or wishing I had you in my arms, just like I do now." His embrace grew tighter, his eyes filled with an ancient, long-lived sadness, reminiscent of mine own as they had been for the last four years.

"Oh, Edward," I sighed again; I reached up to frame his face with my hands, pulling him down to me, "I love you. I love you more than anything and everything."

"I love you too," he whispered, before our lips met again, and suddenly everything began to cartwheel, movements and moments flying past at an unimaginable speed. His arms slid around me, tightening as a knot would when you pulled on either side of the string. My fingers were abruptly in his hair, and then I was leaning backwards, supported by his hands; I put mine out, flattening it against the mattress behind me, slowly edging towards the head of the bed, Edward following on hands and knees, our mouths never parting.

As he bore down upon me, my arms around him, pulling him down as much as he braced his weight so as not to press down on me, as he had before, all those years ago, I began to realise. His body was different – he was taller, leaner, his muscles more defined; he was a whole new person, one I could rememorize all over again. I hated that his touch was unfamiliar, I hated that the way my heart was racing, the way his body pressed flush against mine, felt unreal and unusual.

I hated how much I had forgotten.

But, in some ways, this was better.

It was all new, and enthralling – the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him; it was different, like a delicacy I had not tasted before: it was all brand new, yet so familiar, every sensation waiting to be rediscovered. He was brilliant, dazzling...intoxicating: he had my world spinning and my mind tumbling, yet I all I wanted was more of him. Edward was pressing kisses to my neck, slowly working his way towards my jaw, and I gasped quietly as his hands slid under my bodice and chemise, caressing my bare waist in a gesture I remembered from all those years ago. If anything, it felt even better, and Edward smiled crookedly at me as he lifted his head, his lips an inch away from mine.

"Oh, how I have missed you," he murmured, before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine, parting them in a swift second, filling my head with his scent. There was nothing else but him in my world, and he was all I wanted.

And oh, how I had missed him too.

* * *

**Sigh. :)**

**Review, if it so pleases you :)**

**ATO out xxxx**


	28. Here in Your Arms

**Hey guys! Sorryyy it's been so very very long :( I know, I know, I'm a terrible person, I should really be keeping to schedule...life has been super crazy, and I have so much to do that all I have time for is work, work, sleeping, and maybe seeing other human beings every now and again ;) **

**This chapter was also blindingly hard to write...stupid Edward being stupid and saying stupid things that I have to delete all the time :S**

**But it's still here :) Don't expect an update all the time, but I think I could do once every 2 weeks :S Sorry, guys, but at least it's not 2 months! **

**Hope you enjoy! Keep following me - I promise I'll never give up on you, even if I take absence every now and again I'll always come back :) **

**Just in case you didn't remember - previously:**

**Edward and Bella were forced to leave each other, as the evil Uncle threatened to destroy Alice's new life with Jasper (she ran away cos she was pregnant) Bella forced to marry Duke, Edward forced to leave the country. He became a famous musician, returned in all his glory and him and Bella reunited in the garden...what will happen next? It's all planned out, my little bunnies ;)**

**Read on, my brave warriors!

* * *

**

The house was silent. The room was lit by a single candle which stuttered and flickered, casting strange shadows on the walls; I watched their twists and turns from where I lay, my breath still low, panting a little against the beating of my heart and the warmth that was threatening to consume me. His form was flickering in the candlelight – the dim glow was reflected in his eyes as he looked down at me. We lay together, in the smoky darkness, both our forms obscured by heat and bedsheets, so close that I could not tell where my skin ended and his began. So close I could barely believe he was real.

I turned properly in his arms, staring back at him, my arms tightly wound about his neck, my fingers interlocked at his hairline. My body was burning where it touched his, creating a glorious friction as I slid my hands into his hair, my bare skin rubbing against his. His breath caught as I twisted my fingers in his locks, luxuriating in their lustrous feel, and he pulled me closer to him, his bare chest radiating heat. Our legs were twisted and tangled together, the bedclothes strewn across us like ribbons, exposing my stomach, his shoulders; my ankles, his thigh.

There was a heated silence as we simply gazed at each other – I was unable to look away, almost dizzy on the scent of his skin, high on the emotions that were pulsing as blood through my veins, stronger than any feeling I had ever known. I was having trouble believing it was real – that he was here, with me, in my bed; that his warm body was as close as could be against me, his arms around me, holding me tight. Edward was slowing tracing his fingertips across my skin, drawing patterns on my back – he slid them up my waist and over my shoulder, making me shiver as he touched the back of my neck, his fingers making circles.

No...feelings such as that could not be a pure figment of my imagination. For one thing – I was most definitely not that creative.

We were still both silent; I was revelling in the feel of him, the colour of his eyes, the shape of his face...his touch. I closed my eyes and sighed, wonderfully content there in his arms. It was almost too good to be true, to wonderful to realise that at last that body I had always longed for was there beside me. That I was not alone...it was a wonderful feeling.

"Bella?" he whispered, his fingertips brushing against my eyelids, his soft skin warm against mine, "Open your eyes, please." I did so, finding his warm green eyes – soft, the colour reminding me of the supple grass we'd spent our summer days lying in – close to mine; I was melting inside. "What are you thinking?" he murmured, his fingers drifting and gently tapping my cheekbones.

"That..." I whispered, "That...I feel...extraordinary."

He laughed gently at my attempt at humour – memories of that first night rushed into my mind, when we had lain together under the night sky and talked until the sun came up, and I could not help but smile. "Care to elaborate?" he chuckled.

"You are here," I elaborated, "I can touch you, I can smell you; I can feel you." To prove my point, I slid my hands down from his hair to press against his warm chest, flattening my palms against him. "I can kiss you," I moved up and kissed him, the slight rubbing of his lips against mine heightening the ever-present tingling.

"Mmm," he agreed, his lips curving into his crooked smile, "And I...can kiss you."

I giggled girlishly, the sound completely unfamiliar to my ears, tilting my head up, my eyes drifting closed and my mouth opening slightly, taking in a shallow breath as he darted down to press kisses against the nape of my neck, his arms tightening again, the rubbing of his limbs against my back leaving a trail of heat – I had thought the atmosphere around us could not get any warmer, but I was proved wrong in that moment.

"Alright, alright," I sighed, even as Edward began to roll, turning us over, dragging the sheets with us, "Edward..." I moaned, intending to at least try and push him off – how could I go the whole night without sleeping? – but he had other ideas.

"I love you," he stated, then he kissed me with such fervour that I struggled for breath, gasping against his lips, his hands all over my body - I could not resist him for even a second.

It was too much, this love. It would drown me.

A little later, Edward lay with his eyes closed, whilst I watched him, gently tracing his face with my fingertips, running them over his eyelids, feeling the soft skin of his lips and marvelling at the perfection that was him. His hands were gentle now, sleeping on my waist; but even the slightest touch was enough to send me mad. I was so unused to having him there, after all this time, that any contact between his skin and mine was almost too much. At that moment, I did not think I would ever want to be anywhere but in this bed, with him – the moonlight throwing patterns across the bedclothes, the night wind ruffling the curtains at the open window. I looked out, and realised I could see the stars.

It occurred to me then that the whole world was still out there – the stars were still shining, people were still living...night would still melt into morning, a few hours from now. No matter how much I wished it would not, the sun would still rise tomorrow; my duties, my responsibilities...my life. It was all still there, no matter how much I wished or pretended that it was not.

We were hiding from the world, Edward and I. Just like we were before. Only this time we both knew it – there was no space for denial now.

"You are silent," Edward stated, his eyes flickering open; I looked back down at him again, my lips curving into an involuntary smile as I took him in, laying there next to me. He stroked my cheek, "What are you thinking?"

"I do not know," I sighed, settling down in the sheets again, turning onto my back as he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow and playing with my loose and tangled hair. "It is all...too much."

"What do you mean?"

"You." He titled his head, obviously confused, and I sighed. "You," I said again, shaking my head, "You are just too much for me."

He chuckled a little, "How so?"

"It is like I am seventeen all over again," I murmured, shuddering involuntarily as his finger skimmed across my collarbone, his skin warm, crackling with electricity, "Young, innocent...wholly unprepared for being like this." I moved closer to him, tucking myself into his side, "For feeling like this." Gazing at him, his smile warm and encouraging, I could not help but carry on, words spilling out – it was so wonderful to be able to say exactly what I thought, as I had not in so long, "After four years without you, it is like starting all over again – it is like falling in love with you all over again." I laughed a little, glancing down, "It was almost too much the first time, and now...oh, now it is worse." His fingers were already at my chin, pulling my head up to lock our gazes together, and I breathed out, "So much worse."

"In a good way?" he asked me – I smiled.

"In a marvellous way." He smiled too and wrapped his arms around me again, pressing me against his warm chest – I rested my cheek against him, my arm curved at the elbow, fingertips tapping his skin. "I missed you," I murmured, almost as an afterthought, as I watched my fingers trace patterns across his abdomen – I felt rather than saw him chuckle

"I know," he said, "I missed you too." He kissed me, then murmured in my ear, "And you are far too much for me also."

I blushed, "I doubt that."

"You should not," he caught me with his eyes, holding me still, "You really should not."

I nodded, if only to appease him, then pressed myself back against him and sighed. "I do not want this to end," I whispered quietly; his arms tightened.

"It will not."

I smiled. "I shall be glad for the company," I said, and he laughed again.

"I am glad I mean that much to you."

"Mmm," I murmured noncommittally, closing my eyes and settling down again. I realised then that there was nothing more comforting than not having to fall asleep alone. That extra warmth, the second body sleeping next to yours: I had been alone for far too long, and I had forgotten what it was like to fall asleep with his arms around me.

It was simply glorious.

Edward, however, did not seem interested in letting me sleep - I felt him kiss my eyelids, then my cheekbones, then he moved to my lips and as soon as I began to kiss him back he rolled over me, the warm, heady weight of him pressing me into the mattress. I moaned, but not half as exasperatedly as I should have liked, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close to me despite my weariness. He chuckled slightly as he kissed me, smiling against my lips as he ran his fingers through my hair – abruptly he pinned my arms above my head, fingers tickling my skin as he ran his hands up the limbs before holding both my wrists in his strong grip. "Just in case you try to escape," he murmured to me, something devilish in his eyes – I had trouble maintaining my bravado.

"You wait," I attempted to sound flirtatious, even though I knew he knew me so well he would see right through it in a second, "I could overpower you easily."

"Could you, now?" he replied, laughing at me with his eyes; I sighed before giving in, letting my body slump down against the cushions, making sure to at least disturb the blankets so they were not covering me anymore.

"Probably not." Even with this admission, I knew I had had at least one, albeit small, victory – he was no longer looking at my face. "Edward?" I giggled, "I am up here."

He glanced at me absentmindedly, sufficiently distracted. "You are far too desirable for your own good, you know," he said, fingertips drawing patterns on the skin of my abdomen; I sighed as he began to kiss me again, lifting my head as he tucked his under my neck, kissing up towards my jaw.

"Edward..."

He pressed his lips to mine, letting my wrists go so I could wrap them tight about his neck again – I ran my fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin next to mine, his heart beating in synchronisation with mine, beating a steady rhythm that I could only echo. He was most definitely overpowering me; it had only been a few hours, and if I had been sure before that just one, fleeting kiss from him would be enough for me for a lifetime...that was certainly not true now. Everything he gave me only made me want more of him, want him closer in a way that was totally new to me.

My imagination had certainly not done him justice.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, raking his fingers through my hair and kissing me so hard I was gasping for breath, "I missed you so much...you are so beautiful, so warm, so soft...no other woman has ever been comparable to you...I love you, I love you..."

I only registered what he said after another long minute, and he was already halfway down my body at that point. "Wait, wait," I mumbled, reaching down to grip his wrists, holding him still – I caught his eye, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat, the ice in the pit of my stomach, "Other women?"

The way he stilled told me everything I needed to know – he raised his head to look at me, but I could not meet his eye. I looked away and tried to hold back the tears, firmly pressing my lips together and telling myself that I should have known it: how could I have expected him to remain celibate for four years, all the while knowing for certain that I was not remaining faithful to him? There was no way I could judge him for what he had done, nor how many times he had done it...the thought made my chest swell, my heart beating fast, feelings that I could only place as a stubborn sense of betrayal sweeping through me.

I knew this should not be hurting me – but, by God, it was painful.

"Bella?" Edward was lying beside me now, gazing at me forlornly; he reached out and touched my cheek, wiping away one of the few tears that had fallen. I could see the shadow of regret and self-loathing in his eyes as he sighed. "I am sorry," he whispered, agony all across his face that I told myself should not be there, "Oh, Bella...I am so very sorry."

I shook my head, tears flying this way and that. "No," I choked out, "No, Edward..."

"I should not have done it, I know," he rushed out – each word was like a knife in me, as much as I wished it was not, "I know I have no excuse for being unfaithful to you...I would understand if you decided to throw me out right now and never see me again, and I would deserve it." His eyes were burning, "Just know that I love you, and I always loved you, and those times that I faltered it was only because I missed you so much that I almost hated myself for feeling that way for you. Please understand, Bella: I know it sounds clichéd, but I was thinking of you the entire time...please, Bells. I do not want to lose you over something that happened so long ago."

I sniffed, "Long ago?"

"Two years ago was my last time," he said, with such conviction that I could not help but believe him, "When I realised that I was only twisting the knife in deeper, that trying to satisfy my desire for you with other women was only spiting myself."

"They...they did not make you feel better?" I asked despite myself – he shook his head roughly.

"Never." I let him kiss me softly, resting my forehead against his and trying to find the strength to believe him, "Never, Bella. Only you," he smiled a little at me, "There has only ever been you."

I smiled too. "I understand," I said, "Truly, I do. I should never have expected, even unconsciously, that you would wait for me completely faithfully – there is no way I could expect you to do that to yourself for me."

"I should have," he murmured – I shook my head.

"No, that is not true, and you know it." I kissed him myself now, "Edward, I understand completely why you did it, and the only hurt I feel is irrational. You were forced to leave me, and perhaps it was my fault more than yours – I was married, and there was no guarantee that we would ever see each other again...you knew I was sleeping with Henry, did you not?" He nodded, albeit grudgingly, an adorable grumpiness across his features; I stroked his cheek fondly. "You are so good to me, Edward: but there is no way you should be _that _good. You would only be denying yourself."

"How can you be so alright?" he asked me, "Any other woman would be furiously angry with me."

I laughed a little, the pain receding a bit more as each minute passed, becoming easier to handle and then forget. "How could I be angry with you?" I said, "You have done nothing wrong."

He smiled, "You are far too good to me."

"I could say the same for you."

"I love you," Edward said seriously, reaching out to take my head in his hands, "So much."

I smiled, leaning in to kiss him, "I know." Then I settled down again, waiting until he glanced away before I let my smile fade, trying to ignore the sharp feeling of rejection and betrayal that sat stubbornly in my throat, refusing to move. Edward had done nothing wrong, and I told myself that firmly, demanding to myself that I should move on at once, and not imagine Edward with other women...I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thoughts, before catching Edward's attention again, wanting to hear his voice and forget my ill-founded troubles.

"So what did you do?"

He turned his head to look at me, "What did I do when?"

"Since you left," I clarified, rolling onto my side, dragging the sheets with me and curling up, wrapping my arms around myself, "Since you left me, I mean."

Edward smiled, putting out a hand that had previously been under his head and starting to stroke my hair, running his warm thumb across my temple. "Since I left you?" he repeated slowly, seeming thoughtful, "Well, I would not know where to start."

"From the beginning," I said at once, "I want to know everything – tell me exactly how these past four years have passed for you, starting from when you left me at the window."

He laughed quietly, "That is very precise." He sighed, "Well...after I left you at the window...I sincerely cannot remember a thing about the next few hours. All that really stands out for me is rage. Rage and pain. Rage and pain and sorrow," he added, turning his gaze to the ceiling now while I watched, my heart in my throat, "My mother begged me not to leave, and my father had to hold her back as I walked down the driveway...I went to the village and caught the next coach to London."

"So quickly," I marvelled – he glanced down at me, his eyes clouded, "I mean...you were gone before I even reached Derbyshire."

"I wanted to get as far away as I could, as quickly as was humanly possible," he replied quietly, his voice growing darker with the shadows that were beginning to creep into his face. "I knew that if I did not, there was a rather good chance that I would turn straight back around and drag you away from that altar." He sighed, "And I knew that I should not do that."

"I wanted you to," I whispered, memories of those first few days coming back to me with a horrible lucidity to them – as much as most of these past few years were cloudy and hazy in my mind, those memories were too hard to forget. He brought his hand down and stroked my cheek gently as I continued, "I wanted you to come and take me away so I would not have to go through with it."

"I wish I could have too," he whispered, gazing at me, our eyes locked together now, "I wanted so badly to save you from all of this...but I knew I could not. I decided there was no point remaining in England: so I left."

"You left?" I gasped – I had not been expecting that, "Completely?"

His smile was sad, "How could I stay? How could I bear it? You were married: you seemed locked away from me for what could be forever. I stayed in London for a day or two, but I had no real idea what I wanted to do with myself. The decision to leave England completely rather snuck up on me...someone pushed a flyer into my hand while I was walking to the train station and then the deal was done. I boarded the next train to Dover, bought my ticket...and then I walked onto the ship without looking back."

"Oh, Edward," I murmured, grief for him colouring my voice and guilt quickly rising in me – because of my family, and all our bad decisions, he had been forced to leave his home, to go across the sea all alone without any real chance of coming back...I truly was a monster, and he had paid the price for me. For all of us...for Alice, for Mama...we owed everything to him. I ducked my head, trying to hide the tears that were pooling in my eyes – Edward lifted my chin at once.

"Bella?" he asked me softly, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"It was completely my fault," I choked past the lump in my throat, withdrawing my arms from around him and burying my head in my hands, "All of it. I made mistakes and you had to pay for all of them...oh, Edward, I am so sorry! You had to leave your family, your home, all because of my family's mistakes – you did not deserve any of it!"

"Bella?" Edward's fingers gripped my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face and fixing me with his eyes, "Do not dare believe that, Bella. None of this was your fault: none of it at all. It was not anyone's fault – I would have done what I did a thousand times over if it meant that I could have what I left with. I left with memories of you, Bella, and those were worth everything. The time we have spent together through our lives is worth everything, and I would not give it up, not even if it meant I had to go all the way to Africa and live in exile for the rest of my life. And besides," he wrapped his arms back around me, tugging me close to him, "If I had not gone, I would not be here now."

"But-"

"No buts," he said firmly, holding me still with his eyes until I nodded gently, even thought inside I knew I would never forgive myself for what I had put him through. Of course, he did not need to know that. "Moving on," Edward started again, "I met Emmett on the journey over...he walked straight up to me and asked if my tea was filled with sour milk, or did I always look so irritated?" He laughed, the light back in his eyes, "He made me smile for what must have been a week...we began to talk and found we were much the same. Emmett wanted to make his fortune, and I wanted to find some way to return to England...I began to realise that my music could be a way back for me, especially when Emmett mentioned he played the violin. We spent the next few years going from city to city, trying to find a niche from which we could make ourselves famous."

"Where did you go?" I asked him, inspired, "Paris? Venice? Rome?"

He smiled, "All those places. I could not tell you every detail of those years, love: we moved so much that we barely stayed in one city for long. So much happened...I would need days to tell you everything."

"We have days," I said, and he laughed, kissing the top of my head.

"We do. But it seems far too late to go into specifics...we ended up in Barcelona a year ago, found a bar that was willing to hire us, and somehow we found our niche. From then on we grew more and more in popularity, and eventually your Duke heard of us...so here I am, at his command," Edward laughed darkly, "I suppose that is rather ironic." I bit my lip, not particularly wanting to answer the question I knew he was about to ask – I tried not to wince when he said, "So...what did you do while I was gone?"

It took me a minute or two to find something to say. I lay in his warm arms, staring at his chest, not wanting to look into his face until I had my thoughts set straight...Edward prompted me gently as the silence stretched on, and I could hear the rabid curiosity in his voice. "Bella?"

"Nothing," I burst out, "Edward, I did absolutely nothing. I came here after I was married, chose a room, consummated my marriage..." Edward's arms tightened at that, the veins gaining definition, and I knew I had upset him – still I ploughed on. "And I have been here ever since. Granted, I have visited Alice a few times, toured the country with Henry last year when he felt we needed some time for ourselves...even then nothing was much different: we had banquets wherever we went." I sighed gently, looking up at him, "Truthfully, Edward: my life has been less than colourful."

"Does he come to your bed often?" I closed my eyes and tried to hold in a groan – trust Edward to latch onto the part of the sentence I did not really want him to hear.

"Edward..."

Edward sighed, looking away from me – I bit my lip, trying to work up the courage to do what I knew had to be done.

"What shall I do about Henry?" I asked carefully after the silence became unbearable, knowing this was a subject we must breach – now was just as good a time as ever to talk – and Edward simply stared at the ceiling as I continued, "You know what he expects of me, Edward. We may hardly speak more than one word to each other in a day – I may hardly ever see him, but you know what I must do for him."

There was a tense stillness, then Edward sighed, closing his eyes, tightening his grip on me as if he were using me to keep his temper – I hoped he was, for both of our sakes. Shouting would do us no good.

"I know," he finally said, shortly; I bit my lip.

"Edward, you must understand – I do not like it. It has hurt me every time these past four years, when I must pretend...pretend to..." I sighed, desperately wondering whether I was making it worse, but desperately needing him to understand. "He is nothing compared to you, Edward: absolutely nothing. He has never done for me what you have done for me...what you do to me, Edward. But still, I must do it, no matter how much I wish I did not have to."

"Bella," Edward interrupted, abruptly furious, "I know. I know...but I hate it." He growled, thumping the mattress in distress, "Goddamnit, I hate it!"

"I know," I murmured, taking his balled fist and gently stroking it, smoothing it out flat as he continued.

"To think that another man insists on...insists on...being with you. Insists on taking you from me, when I should be the one who...who..." he closed his eyes again, and I touched his cheek.

"Edward?"

"It should be me!" He suddenly exploded, his eyes turning wild in a sudden second, "I should be the one who touches you and kisses you...and undresses you and makes love to you. I, the man who loves you and needs you and wants you, and no one else. Certainly not a man who only wants you for an heir," he chuckled humourlessly, "When all of society knows he is obviously impotent, due to a four-year marriage to a beautiful, desirous, and succulent young wife who has borne no children to him, as good in bed as she is."

"As only you will ever know," I added, trying to soothe him.

He dipped his head, though his anger still raged. "The unfairness of it all!" he exclaimed, "I know well enough that he has a hundred mistresses – all younger, less attractive and all...worthless compared to yourself – to keep himself satisfied; why must he covet you too? The beautiful, breathtaking, virtuous girl that you are, who is worth more than every single mistress put together, whom he obviously cannot see is far too good for him to tie down – whom he cannot see deserves better than an old, impotent man like himself. He does not desire you, or need you, or love you; I desire you, and need you...and I love you - even in my four year absence, I still always loved you. I never wanted another, nor did I ever take another: it was always you I wanted. I see you for who you are, and I value you as such – a woman who I do not deserve, but still, I will always strive to be a man whom you do deserve. I waited and waited, longing for you, and now that I am here, able to love you and knowing no one else can love you as much as I do, he still must take you from me, for his own selfish and pointless desires. I wish to heaven that I could be the only one who touches you and kisses you and undresses you and makes love to you – the thought that another man is with you as intimately as I...it is too much to bear."

I had lain still during his outburst, carefully listening, taking in what he was saying – I wanted to understand fully, so I could soothe and comfort him...perhaps, even, find a solution. But, as I well knew: there was no solution to what was hurting him, and I could think of only one way to console him – to relieve him of the pain that lurked behind his green eyes.

I kissed him.

I wrapped my arms about his neck, and I kissed him.

I pressed myself to him, kissing him as deeply and as meaningfully as I could, moulding myself against his frame, determined to make him see how much he meant to me – how much I needed him to know what he meant to me. "I am honoured," I murmured, kissing him in between each word whilst he responded enthusiastically, like a man starved of water, "Truly. That you could love me as you do, despite my shortcomings, despite all the troubles and responsibilities that I must pass onto you, much as I wish I did not have to. You are, and always will be, the one and only man I shall ever love. I love you, Edward," I said, "And I will do anything, no matter what, to protect you. Satisfying my husband is..." I bit my lip, trying to explain myself, "It is...a necessity. How can I dare to love you as I want to unless he is completely sure of my affections – of my loyalty? It is the only way. And," I sighed, "I do not want to hurt him."

Edward's eyes widened then, "What?"

"I do not love him: he is a good man," I said, knowing that it was true, "He has been good to me, in his way. He loves me, and even though I do not love him, he still does not deserve a pain like that. I know this hurts you too, Edward," I kissed him again, pressing our foreheads together, "But he has done nothing to me – even giving him suspicions of my adultery would be nothing less than cruel. This is just something I have to do."

"I know," he said sombrely, sighing and resting his head on my chest, holding me close, "I know it is, my love. It just...hurts."

"I know," I stroked his hair, tugging it through my fingers gently; "It hurts me too." We lay together again in helpless silence, held back yet again by duty and society and by sheer bad luck...I felt him sigh, small eddies of his breath tickling my skin.

"And here we are again...what else can we do?"

"I do not know."

"But I know what we shall do," I whispered to him as he bent down to kiss my shoulder – I had to hold back a moan as he lifted his head, eyes smouldering.

"What?" he whispered, voice hoarse.

"We shall make every single night we have together worth a hundred other nights that I may have to have with Henry..." I pulled his head down to mine, holding back from kissing him for just one final second, "We have only just begun...and I am nowhere near finished loving you, Edward Anthony Masen."

"I love you, Bella Swan," he replied, and I thrilled in his use of my maiden name, just as I did in using his – the name I had always thought was mine, even if others had designated it dead and gone. It signified how we, and only we, knew who the other was, completely and ultimately. "And if you only stopped talking, then I could finish loving you in the way I am at this particular moment in time."

"I can stop talking," I giggled, and his smile grew.

"Good."

As the sun began to rise, and we lay together, our breathing gently evening out, I yawned and then sighed.

"Dawn."

"A new day," he observed, following my gaze to the rising sun, shining through my window.

"I remember the last time we were here," I said, quietly, "How I hated that daybreak..."

"This is a better dawn, Bella," he told me, gently stroking my cheek, smiling, "For I do not have to leave. Not forever – for a few hours, perhaps, but you will see me again. You will definitely see me again."

"You are stealing hours from me, Edward," I smiled a little, then I yawned, suddenly realising my exhaustion, "You have stolen my night from me."

"Does that trouble you?"

I yawned again, "I would have preferred not falling asleep in front of my friends today, but," I closed my eyes, resting against him, "I would not trade tonight for the world."

He kissed my hair, then drew me closer, "You sleep, sweetheart. I will wake you when it is time for me to leave."

I would have objected, but I was far too tired to fuel my fight against slumber – I gently drifted away, into the deepest, most peaceful sleep I had experienced in years, all because of Edward's warm arms around me, and his comforting presence by my side.

To say I had missed him was definitely an understatement. He was my other half, my love and my heart – an essential part of me, and now that he had returned...no matter how difficult our situation was, I could not help but feel totally and completely content as I lay in his arms, happily falling asleep, knowing that, whatever happened, my life would be better from now onwards.

* * *

Rosalie noticed the change in me immediately, as soon as I had entered the living room – I had bathed, scrubbed myself completely clean whilst giggling as Edward flicked bubbles across the steaming water and lightly kissed me at regular intervals. He had aided me with my towel, in a completely different way from the maids, helped me dress, and again, this took far longer than usual due to his escapades; I kissed him goodbye at my door, then attempted to soothe my ruffled self through splashes of cold water and an incredibly tightened corset. Unfortunately, none of that had helped soften my bright, excited face, my eyes sparkling and my lips plumped and red, hectic spots of colour dusted across my cheeks – I looked positively in love, I had concluded, much to my delight and my dismay.

"You have changed," she declared immediately, pointing an accusing, tapered finger at me, even as I dismissed the servant – Mary was her name – and seated myself in my usual chair, rolling my eyes whilst attempting to be nonchalant.

"Do not be ridiculous, Rosalie," I said, "Nothing is different from when you saw me yesterday."

"Do not try to fool me," she countered, her blonde curls bouncing as she tossed her beautiful head, "I know you, and something is definitely different. You seem incredibly merry this morning, and you have the grandest smile on your face...you have never smiled as you are now." I immediately attempted to dampen the grin that I knew was stretching out my cheeks, but I could not attempt to do anything about it. Rosalie was right – I was marvellously happy this morning, for only one reason. Edward.

I tried to laugh off her comments, "I could say the same for you." When she coloured, I suddenly realised that I was right – her eyes were bright, her stance too upright, her fingers twisting over each other as she smiled, suddenly seeming nervous. Rosalie was never nervous. "Who was it you were with last night?" I wondered out loud

"Emmett McCarty, Rosalie?" I mused, "Really? You, of all people...considering...settling down again? Marrying again?"

"Of course not _marrying_," she quickly interjected, seeming scornful – her expression softened slightly as she added, "Well...maybe in the future, but it is early days yet."

I sat back, so stunned that there was nothing to do other than smile at her and say, "Best wishes then, Rosalie." I winked gently, "Perhaps there may even be tiny feet pattering their way towards you," I laughed as she flinched, "Oh come now, Rosalie – I would give anything for a child, wouldn't you?"

"You have more cause for one than I," she quipped, and I quickly realised the gushing mistake I had made, "And after four years...it does not surprise me that you are opting for other sources, in your obvious desperation."

I had to repress the urge to throw a cushion her way as she giggled deviously, "Oh lord, Rosalie, could you not just give it a rest?"

"Not until I have the truth out of you, Isabella Delaunay," she cackled gleefully, almost reminding me of my sister Alice then. I rolled my eyes, and when carefully steering the conversation in a different direction did not deter her, I made up an excuse and left the room completely, remembering again why I much preferred my own company.

Edward waylaid me on my way to the library – I was walking leisurely, already planning as to which book ladder I should swing on and where, glad for some of my own company after an unusually hectic day – when suddenly he stepped out from behind a door, his fingers wrapping around my wrist and tugging me inside a guest room, which I guessed then was his own. "Caught you," he chuckled, swinging the door shut, "It seems we have another bed to christen."

I barely had time to say a thing – no objections, of course – before he had swung me up into his arms, and then I was on the bed, completely and utterly trapped as Edward pinned my arms above my head against the pillows, on hands and knees, towering over me. I giggled, making no attempt to escape, "Edward...an inappropriate time, of all things..."

"No time is ever inappropriate for this," he countered, darting down to crush his lips to mine – my body arched forwards off the bed as he pulled away, our mouths kept together for as long as I could before Edward ripped us apart. I collapsed down again, breathing heavily; there was no more time for light teasing, I could tell: from the look in Edward's eyes.

I could hardly recognise the moans that were ripping themselves through my throat – the deep, throaty, desperate groans that seemed to emanate from a place deep inside of me, a place that I could not control.

Another piece of luck: anyone who passed would simply think Edward had enchanted one of my friends or ladies, or maybe one of the maids, into his room for simple debauchery. No one would think the woman in here was me. As far as they were all concerned: I was cold.

Oh, how wrong they were.

* * *

Edward had locked the door, and we lay together in sleepy dizziness, his fingers twisted through mine – I was too blissfully happy to care that someone could notice my absence. In that moment, all I knew and felt and saw and thought about was him. After a while I twisted to face him; he groaned gently as I jolted him, and I smiled to myself as I settled down again, resting my head on my hands, gazing at his beautiful face as I murmured, "Talk to me, Edward."

He opened one glowing eye, reaching out with a finger to trace the bones of my cheek, "What do you wish for me to say?" he asked, fingertips gently running across my lips – I felt myself beginning to become severely distracted, my heart pounding in my chest. It took great strength of mind to carry on speaking when his hand moved to my jaw, slowly moving downwards, but I managed it.

"Anything," I replied shakily, hardly moving as my heart pounded in my ears – Edward stilled, gazing at me for a second, before reaching out and pulling me to him. I sighed happily as I settled against his chest, half my body pressed against his, my head on his shoulder, his chin resting on my forehead. He tightened his arms, holding me close, tugging the bedclothes up around us before sighing gently.

"In Africa, the sky is so blue that it almost hurts to look at it – the horizon stretches far out, as far as you can see, because the ground is completely flat and the plains going on for miles. The grass is short and choppy and brown because the ground is starved of water for days on end. And it is so warm..." I lay in his arms, and listened as he described all the places he had been, and all the places I knew I would never go and wished I could...slowly his soft, musical voice, which I loved more than even I could comprehend, gently lulled me to sleep, to a blissful oblivion where I dreamed of those places, the only images of them I had being the ones in my imagination.

When I woke, it was dark outside – it took me a second or two to comprehend how long it had been since Edward had waylaid me in the corridor, and even then I had already begun to doze again before I realised how much trouble we could be in.

"Christ!" I cursed, sitting up abruptly, my heart turning cold with sudden fear. I shook Edward and at once he bolted upright, body tensed and eyes wary as if expecting some kind of attack – he would never have reacted like that before.

"What is it?" he asked me – I was wringing my hands in anxiety.

"Edward, we slept through the afternoon! I missed supper..._we_ missed the whole evening! They will have noticed we are gone..." I buried my face in my hands, dread trickling quickly through me, "Oh no, no, no...what are we going to do?"

"Bella," he pulled my hands away, taking them in his and squeezing my fingers, obviously trying to be reassuring, "Bella, it will be alright – it is a Sunday, and you know almost nothing happens on a Sunday evening." I was still trembling a little, and Edward put his hand on my cheek, stroking my skin gently, his smile calm, "I will stay here and tell his Grace that I felt too weary to join evening festivities, and if you go change quickly and say you were taken ill for a while, they will all be none the wiser."

His words made sense, once I began to calm down – the fear of being caught had overrun me, and as I nodded I felt ashamed of how that solution had not come to me sooner. I was mistress of this house – of course I should be able to come to supper late if I wished. "Yes," I said, smiling weakly at him, "Sorry...I had a moment of panic there." I shook my head, still a little jumbled inside, "I was so sure they would find us out."

Edward laughed gently, reaching out and pulling me back into his arms, stroking my hair, "You are absurd – as if I would let them find us when I have only been back with you for a night."

"I know, I know," I murmured, listening to his heartbeat and feeling my own begin to move in sync with his – I stayed that way for another long minute, suddenly not wanting to let him go. Eventually I sighed and pulled away, rolling off the bed and picking my clothes up off the floor. Edward watched me silently as I dressed, tugging my dress on over my various undergarments – I had trouble with the strings going up my back, and in a moment Edward was there, somehow in his trousers already.

"Here," he said quietly, a smile in his voice, "I will do it."

I felt the corset tighten around my waist, sighing as my breathing began to be restricted; this was not helped by how Edward, as he reached the neck of my dress, began to kiss the skin before he laced the corset over it. When he was finished, he turned me round slowly, trailing his hands across my waist until we faced each other. After a moment of stillness he moved forward and kissed me, fingers threading into my hair, arms winding tightly around me – I held onto him, wrapping my own arms around his neck and kissing him back deeply, not wanting to let him go. But eventually I had to pull away, had to surrender his warm embrace; I wrapped my fingers around the cool door handle and smiled sadly at him. "I love you," I said, and he smiled at me.

"I love you too."

Dinner was almost over by the time I entered the room, and within an hour I found myself back in my own bedroom, after only minimal involvement at the various half-hearted games of cards and dice. Angela was gone, and I was sitting up in bed, the sheets pinned firmly to my chest by my arms – I was holding myself perfectly still, grappling with my own desires, wondering if I should brave a run to Edward's room or whether it was too dangerous. Was the temptation enough to make me throw away all I had waited for? I told myself there was no point, that if I waited until tomorrow there was more chance I could keep him for longer, but nothing could silence the monster that was raging in the pit of my stomach.

Luckily, after another eternity of tossing and turning, I was not kept waiting for long.

I shot up at the slight knock at the door, then threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, almost flying across the dark room in my haste. I wrenched the door open and saw him standing there – no candle, no shoes: just him.

"Edward."

"Bella," was all he said – he was panting a little, as if he had run here, and that split second observation of mine was long enough for him to lunge forward and pull me up into his arms, pressing his mouth roughly to mine. I gasped as I wound my arms tight about his neck and kissed him back, finding my feet suspended off the floor as he lifted me up, keeping my body close to his as he carried me across the room, nothing but his warmth and his kiss in the darkness.

I fell asleep against him, lulled into unconsciousness by his heartbeat.

In the morning we woke up late – I was not surprised by the lack of intrusion upon us. The maids knew me well: if they knocked and I did not answer, it always meant I was either still asleep, reading, or I had dressed myself and left for a walk. Normally it had been the third option, and I smiled pleasantly to myself as I thought of how things had changed: I would no longer be walking in the mornings, of that I was quite sure. Edward slept on for a few minutes after I woke, and I spent that time lying in his arms beside him, watching him breathe gently and wondering how on earth I had manage to survive without him for so long.

We were just beginning to engage in a much more enjoyable activity than sleeping when we heard footsteps – then all of a sudden he was gone from beside as a maid quietly opened the door.

"Your grace?" The enquiring voice made me sit up in surprise amongst the tangled sheets, pressing my newly liberated hand to my chest as my heart attempted to flee my body, "Your grace?"

I took a deep breath, trying to still my nervous pulse, securing the bedclothes tightly around my and trying to hide the fact that I was wearing no nightgown and looked more than dishevelled, "Yes, Mary?"

"His grace has returned."

"Oh," I inclined my head to her, "Thank you, Mary." She curtsied and left; I sighed in relief, "Oh, that frightened me."

Edward sat up from behind the bed, smiling wryly, and followed as I threw a gown around me and hurried to the balcony which overlooked the main gardens. I opened the glass door and stepped out into the warm sunshine, hesitating for a second to let the sun play across my face, closing my eyes for a second...then Edward murmured in my ear, "They are over there, Bella."

He hooked our hands together and pressed a kiss to my neck; I sighed deeply, attempting to control myself, to stop my head from instinctively throwing itself back, to stop a whisper of a moan escaping my lips. As I well knew: any wrong moves, and Edward and I were finished. With great effort, I pulled forward, disconnecting his lips and my skin; I mourned the loss as I whispered to him, "Edward, stop it – not now. Remember: we are forbidden."

"Forbidden love," he chuckled quietly, his fingers still intertwined with mine, carefully hidden behind my back; I stood in front of him, pretending to observe my husband and his friends riding back from their hunting trip, their horses glossy and groomed, coats perfect, not a hair out of place – obviously, as usual, the poor animals hadn't been put to much use. Edward did not seem interested; he pulled me away from the window, enveloping me in his arms as he walked us backwards, smiling mischievously, "Now, where do I believe I have heard that before?"

* * *

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	29. At This Moment

**Two weeks and a day...I'm getting better at this :)**

**Hope you enjoy! **

**Read on, my brave warriors!

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**

I found it almost unreal, how much everything around me had not changed. The next morning when I walked into the breakfast room, my heart light and carefree, feeling completely different than I had the day before, Henry only looked up at me to say good morning, before returning to his paper, as he always did. I could not help but feel shocked as I sat down opposite him at the end of the long table, my breakfast seeming as if it appeared magically in front of me, I was so distracted. Toying with my eggs, I tried to make sense of it all – to me, everything was different now. It was as if I had been living in darkness, trapped in a pocket of eternal night, and I was only just stepping into the sunlight: pure happiness was dazzling me, the world now so bright everything around me looked totally different, colours seeming heightened, the sky bluer than it had been before. It was strange to find that no one else could see it, but I supposed they should not: their childhood sweetheart had not come back as if from the dead, after all.

But even so, I could hardly believe no one else felt it – personally, I felt as if I was a whole new person, and the world that had been so familiar to me yesterday now seemed like a half-remembered dream. It left me a little stunned, and I could barely understand how I had managed to live this way for so long.

I spent the morning staring out of the window absently as the ladies around me sewed, the room almost silent apart from the sharp taps of needles hitting porcelain thimbles. I could feel their inquisitive gazes on me, another one looking up from their work every minute to stare at me. Personally, I was attempting not to scream at the monotony of it all – I did not want to sew, I did not want to sit, I did not want to fix a smile on my face and pretend that I was happy this way any longer. I knew I must, but I also knew what was there for me, only a few corridors away; it was agony. Eventually, when even attempting to distract myself with happy thoughts of Edward had ceased to make me less frustrated, and the ladies had begun to chatter so cacophonously I was worried I would soon explode, I made my excuses and hurried out of the room, hoping that Rosalie would have the foresight to distract them all.

Needing fresh air and space and sky, I went out into the grounds, leaving my cloak behind – it was warm enough, I thought, to wander outside in my heavy winter dress, as autumn was only just beginning to fall across the country. I walked until I was clear of the house, towards the hills where I knew no one would be able to see me, then I spread out my arms, taking in deep breaths of clean, sunny air. Closing my eyes, I sighed and let my mind go blank, trying to forget all my troubles and go back to simply _being_, without all the complications that came with living. How on earth was I going to do it? How was I going to keep living this way? Was there any chance of escape for me? I did not know. All I knew was that hope was spreading through me, coursing through my body, making me believe all over again that there was a chance: hope was deadly. I had been hoping before, and I ended up crushed when those dreams came to nothing...I was not sure if I was able to go through the loss again. Perhaps it really would drive me mad this time.

A welcome voice shook me out of my dark thoughts.

"Good morning, your Grace." I knew who it was before I even turned around, and I smiled to find Edward standing there among the bright blue skies, bowing formally. I laughed a little, continuing the charade.

"Good morning, Mr Cullen," I curtseyed, smiling coyly at him, "How are you this morning, sir?"

Instead of answering, Edward stepped towards me and pulled me off my feet in one swift movement, pressing his lips to mine with a smile. Joy overtook me again, sweeping through my body, clearing away all the ghosts and shadows and leaving only elation in its place. I flung my arms around him and kissed him back with all I had, losing myself in him as he set me back down on the ground and moved in deeper, holding me close to him, his hands rough at my waist. "Mmm," he murmured against my lips, kissing me so hard I was breathless and dizzy, yet unable to even take a breath, I was so engrossed in him, "I missed you...and you know what is wonderful?"

"What?" I whispered, clinching myself around him so tight I could feel his heartbeat clearly – he smiled at me, kissing me gently again before he answered.

"Now I do not." He chuckled gently, "Four years all seems worth it now," he kissed me, smiling, "For this."

"Come on," I managed to disentangle myself after a few more minutes, taking his arm and wrapping it around my shoulders, leaning happily into his side, "We should get away from here."

"As long as I may stay with you, I will do anything you wish," he replied, his voice calm and quiet, as it always was when he was happy.

We walked together, our destination of no consequence – occasionally he would stop, point something out to me in the distance: tell me a story or what it reminded him of. I was just glad to have him there, and I felt as if I could listen to his voice until the end of time itself. Eventually we found ourselves beneath an oak tree, propped up against the trunk; I had closed my eyes, content, when abruptly his low humming stopped up short, replaced by a low, heartfelt sigh.

"Edward?" I glanced up at him to find his mouth turned down at the corners, eyes raised – I rolled over to kneel beside him, trying to catch his gaze, "Edward, what is it?"

"The leaves," he murmured – I looked up, to see a solitary red-golden leaf above us, bright amongst its green brethren, probably the first of the season. I hardly found this unusual, and I told him so; I was surprised when he sighed deeply, sounding troubled. "My mother's hair is exactly the same colour," Edward said, dropping his eyes now and rubbing his fingers together, a dark shadow stealing its way across his face. I bit my lip, sitting back on my heels and trying to think of something to say – a sharp pang of guilt shot through me when he whispered, "I miss them."

I tried hard not to let the tears that were pooling in my eyes fall, tried hard to forget that I knew exactly how he felt. Unbidden, as much as I was trying to think only of him, my own Mother and Father crept into my mind – Papa's smile, Mama's laugh...how they had looked when life had left them, cold, white...still. Edward still had his head down, so I was able to quickly wipe my cheeks dry, sniffing and pushing the ghosts away, knowing there was nothing I could do for either of them now. "Edward?" I bent down, finally catching his eye – I shuffled closer, taking his hands, "It will be alright, I promise you. You will see them again. Trust me: I know exactly how it feels."

He smiled and nodded, drew me back into his arms – I settled there, resting against his chest, but as I looked up at him again I saw there was still a shadow behind his eyes, so deep and dark, a shadow I had never seen before. I ignored it, turning my gaze away and shutting my eyes: but I knew Edward was no better than I was.

Edward and I, much as though we liked to think that neither of us had been changed by our experiences apart, were different. We had both been twisted, altered, what I sometimes thought was beyond either of our recognition. There were things that had happened that neither of us could forget. There were moments, even in those first few weeks, where something would cross Edward's face that I had never seen before, or he would say something that sounded totally unsuited to him, and I knew it was because a part of him had been broken. Just like me. We had each other – but there was so much we had both lost. Before, when we were younger, I had known him inside and out – everything he said ran in line with how I knew his mind worked, and what thoughts crossed his mind. Recently, however, I sensed his thoughts had taken a much darker turn: I could not read him so well anymore. Of course, that did not mean we had not grown even closer than we had been before – within the first few days I felt as if he were part of me again, and by now he seemed to have settled underneath my skin so I was constantly aware of his presence in the world.

The first time we had been properly together, it had been sweet, gentle...two young adults sharing in something they knew nothing about. We had thought of nothing but each other, and even though Edward had only the slightest knowledge about what he was doing, and I even less than that...it had still been the most electrifying and exhilarating night of my life. His touch had been soft, his hands gentle and caring, his kiss slow and sultry, as if we had had all the time in the world...it had not been urgent, or passionately hasty, hands ripping and tearing and pushing onward simply because the need was so strong that there was no time to wait...no. We had been young, and love like that – rushing, consuming, fiery, _desperate_ love – was something neither of us had been old enough to understand. Ours was first love, and it was learning as well as loving.

But we had both grown up, and had grown in experience – we knew what was out there; we were not as naive as we had been before. The two people we had been had gone. I was harder, less impressionable; I laughed much less than I did when I was younger. It would be untrue to say I had become more a Duchess than that young, innocent girl I had been.

Edward was different too. In those first few days I had seen shadows of the past only just lifting from his face, darkening his smile – his hands were rougher, his kiss more desperate, as if at any moment I would be taken away from him. I supposed that fear still lived in both our hearts, even as the weeks went on and we remained undiscovered, despite our rather terrible subtlety.

I simply could not get enough of him, and it was, at the best of times, driving me insane. Whenever he was near, I ached for him, and whenever he was not...I wished to be near him just so I could ache for him. The whole situation was insane, and yet I loved it. I loved the quick dashes from my room to his, skirting round corners, hiding my face beneath my cowl as I slipped through the dark and quiet halls, skipping from floor to floor until I reached him.

I loved the feeling of mystery, of furtiveness, the love that raged behind closed doors, so secret only two in the entire world knew of it – I loved how the burning flame we together kept alight was ours and ours alone. I loved to hide, to have something, someone, who was completely and totally mine. To have a secret that no one else knew of meant that there was nothing I could not do, for there was no one to defy me, least of all Edward. I could slip through those deserted staircases, leave my room empty with only one candle alight, flickering lower and lower, casting no human shadows against an empty bed – I could spend my nights locked in endless ecstasy, and there was no one who could stop me.

The ironic freedom of it was simply exhilarating.

I knocked quietly on Edward's door – there was the tell-tale creaking of bedsprings further down the hall, and I laughed lightly to myself: we were not to be the only ones enjoying ourselves tonight. I wondered briefly whether it was Henry and yet another of his pointless conquests, or maybe Rosalie and the stunningly long-surviving Emmett, but then Edward's smiling face appeared and my attention was captured; his hair seemed almost red, his skin glowing in the low candlelight.

"Good evening, my lady," he chuckled, smirking slightly, the green in his eyes glinting in the half-darkness, "Is there any reason you are here _this _late in the evening?" I replied simply by planting my hands flat against his chest and pushing him backwards forcefully, too impatient for banter. I pushed my body up, pressing our mouths together, at once opening my lips on his and kissing him deeply, unbuttoning his shirt with quick and nimble fingers – the ease and speed with which I was able to fling the little balls of cotton from their hard-edged holes was simply delightful; it gave me a feeling of power which I rarely possessed. "Your grace," Edward began, mumbling against my lips, his tone mocking and teasing, but then I had his shirt thrown to the floor and was beginning to work my way to the waistband of his leather trousers, and his breath caught a little. "As you wish, then," he murmured, before taking hold of me and swinging me onto the bed, his touch suddenly enveloping me, his passionate and heated kiss matching mine. He rolled us both until he hung above me, our bodies only a few inches apart, kissing me so deeply I could hardly think – all my desire for power suddenly evaporated in those few seconds, leaving me so breathless I did not want to do anything except let him do as he wished. When he pulled back for a second, I could not help but moan, "More."

A sly grin suddenly flashed across his face, and he lowered himself down slowly, torturing me as he lightly kissed along my jaw, setting my body aflame. "I wonder when," he murmured in my ear, his warm breath making me shiver beneath him, making my fingers twist sharply in their grip on his locks, "When you became so..." I almost lost myself right there and then when he whispered throatily in my ear, the deep tones chafing against the air, so soft and sultry, "_Demanding_."

Afterwards, when our heaving breathing was just quietening, my heartbeat gently slowing, and his head was pressed against my chest, tucked under my chin, listening to my heart, he chuckled lightly, the sound interspersed with slightly gasping breaths. "Well," he mumbled, his voice cracking a little; he cleared his throat and lifted his head, smiling at me, "I think we may have just shown those two down the hall a thing or two..."

I laughed gently, almost unable to do so, before throwing my head back again and letting my eyes slide shut. I was so deeply and completely weary and content that I wanted nothing more than to sleep for days, there in that softly candlelit bed, the sheets warm and welcoming and Edward's loving arms around me, and his tender smile that kept my heart alive. I felt Edward settle down again, the warm pressure of his head against the bare skin of my chest returning, my body tingling lightly as he sighed, the air tripping across my skin. He turned a little and began to trace patterns gently on my abdomen, the tips of his fingers sliding across my skin, no real order in the lines that he drew, humming lightly as he worked.

After a while, when sleep did not come to me either, I instead lightly tipped my head forward, pulling my fingers up to run them through his hair which was glowing in the candlelight. Edward glanced up, smiling gently at me. "I love you," he said quietly, and the moment was so perfect I could not help but wonder how I had managed to find someone like him...and, absurdly, keep him.

Of course, that just made it all the more annoying when we had to let the night go in the morning – I began to hate the sunrise like I never had before. In the day Edward and I had to pretend to be indifferent to each other, and I barely ever saw him: I was not used to that. I was used to never having him with me, and when we had been children together I had seen him most all of every day. Only catching glances of him and not even being able to say hello was foreign to me, and I hated it. We managed to see each other almost every night, except for when either of our absences would be noticed or Henry decided he wanted to see me – this was becoming rarer and rarer, due to the appearance of a particularly beautiful new Lady and my own indifference to him. Every minute of our nights together I cherished: he made life so beautiful it was very difficult to give him up in the morning, even though just the memories of him made me smile throughout the rest of the day without him.

On that particular morning it was especially difficult to let him go, for no other reason than I was sick of doing it – when he kissed me in his way that meant he was getting ready to go, I felt the typical feeling of disappointment rising in me, though I was sure he did not notice. He smiled sadly, "I have to go," he said, throwing the bedclothes away and standing up – I followed him, rolling over to kneel up in front of him, trying to look as mournful and pitiful as possible.

"Must you?" I moaned, but he chuckled, seeing straight through me.

"Do not try that with me, love," he laughed, reaching out to rub his thumb fondly against my chin, "You know I must – I must be back in my room before breakfast, or someone will suspect us." He pulled me forward to kiss me gently – I let him, trying to wrap my arms around him to keep him there, but he would not let me. He smiled as he moved away, "I will see you later, I promise."

I huffed and sat back on my heels as he began to dress, playing with the corner of the billowing sleeves of my nightgown – I must have looked more than a little annoyed, because when he moved over again he was smiling fondly. "My love," he began, lifting my chin with a finger to meet my eyes, "Do not look like that: it makes me feel even worse for leaving."

"Then do not," I insisted – a quick flash of hesitation darted across his face, and then I took my chance, kneeling up swiftly so I could lock my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply before he had any chance to escape. In credit to him, he did at least try to push me away, but that was only for a second or two. As soon as I wound my fingers into his hair I had him, and he was pulling me close to him and kissing me back, hands tight and firm at my waist. "Curse you, Isabella Swan," he muttered, before he let me pull him back onto the bed, "Curse you and all your crafty tricks."

I giggled, murmuring back to him, "Indeed. I am quite the evil temptress."

"Quite," Edward echoed, and then he was distracted, which was all it took to get him back under the sheets with me.

* * *

"Bella!" Rosalie's high-pitched shriek jolted me out of my happy reverie – I was gazing out of the window across the grounds, where my husband and his friends were playing polo amongst the red and golden leaves that scattered the grass around them. A certain red and golden head stuck out among all the rest, and it was he that I was gazing at, smiling fondly as I watched him bend and sway, ducking in and out and every now and again taking a wild swing, the loud crack of bat against ball echoing through the house. "Bella!"

I shook my head, jumping away from the window so quickly and so guiltily that I knew she suspected something. "Oh, Rosalie," I fabricated quickly, "I apologize – I did not hear you come in."

"What were you doing?" she asked me, narrowing her eyes and moving to stand beside me, peering out the window suspiciously – I winced and attempted to be nonchalant.

"Nothing."

"The men playing Polo?" she said, ignoring me, "Why on earth should you be so interested in that?"

"I was not," I lied, "I was...watching the sun."

Rosalie raised a disbelieving brow, "There are clouds in the sky, Bella – you cannot see the sun."

"Well..."

"Oh," she was looking out over the men again, and she smiled, "Why, look who is out there, looking devilishly rugged and handsome, riding his horse in only a light shirt! Edward Cullen!" She looked over at me, and I could not help but blush, revealing myself at once in the process, "Could it be that he is the reason you were staring out of the window so intently?"

"No," I replied at once, indignantly, "Besides, Rosalie, my husband is out there...I was simply watching to make sure he would not be hurt." Rosalie crossed her arms, no hint of the doubt I was trying to instil in her crossing her features – I switched tactics, trying to distract her, "Have you seen Emmett McCarty? He was playing rather well."

"Is he out there?" she immediately said, turning away to press her nose against the window pane again. I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping she would veer off onto a different track, but that was in vain: as soon as she turned back her eyes were hard again, "Do not try to distract me," she laughed, "What happened to you is what we are discussing here." She gasped suddenly, "I remember! Edward Cullen."

I cursed inwardly, but remained what I hoped was uninterested, "What about Edward Cullen? The bronze-haired pianist whom my husband has taken a new interest in? Why should you mention him?" I laughed, but the sound was forced – I knew Rosalie was not fooled. She knew me too well.

"Something has happened between you and Edward Cullen – I know it. Tell me."

I shook my head, "It is nothing, Rosalie. You know very well that I am married, and you know me well enough: I would never do anything like that."

She was not fooled, "What are you keeping from me?" she said shrewdly, "You have changed – I know it. You look happier than I have ever seen you; your eyes are sparkling and bright. Do you realise, Bella, that you are never joyful and bright? You always seemed deadened – your smiles never reached your eyes. Now look at you," she cast an exasperated hand at me, "You are blooming. Why will you not tell me why and how Mr Cullen has done this to you?"

"Why do you insist it is Edward Cullen who has affected me?" I said stubbornly; Rosalie groaned, quite unladylike.

"Isabella Delaunay!" I winced at her use of my married name – I did hate it so – and resisted the urge to correct her with 'Swan', "You can be so positively obstinate at times!" She swept onto her feet, gathering her skirts, her expression determined, "If you shall not tell me, I shall go and talk to Mr Edward Cullen myself. He is in the club with your husband, is he not?"

I froze in horror as she hurried towards the door, throwing it open and tossing her curls – I remembered then how Rosalie had no reservations. She was not teasing; she absolutely did intend to march straight to Edward and potentially expose us to the world. I managed to gather myself and I stood, desperately shouting, "Rosalie, no!" There was no answer, and I ran after her, for once not bothering to care how I must look – there was too much at stake. I could not let her expose us; I could not lose Edward again. "Rosalie, please, you do not understand!"

She was faster than me, her long legs carrying her further – she was already halfway down the main stairs, heading straight for the club where my husband held his almost daily drinking parties. I continued calling after her, my voice dropping to a hiss as she approached the door.

"Rosalie!"

She turned, her hand on the doorknob, "Will you tell me what has happened with you and Edward Cullen?" she asked.

"Nothing has!" I screeched in a whisper, catching up with her by skidding the last few feet; I grabbed her arm, "Please, Rosalie – you cannot go in there!"

"Why not? Do you not want me to talk to him?"

I had no answer to that.

She smirked – she looked positively evil, "I thought so."

"Rosalie, no!"

But, it was too late. She had already swung open the door – I twisted away, out of sight, pressing myself against the corridor wall as she said, her voice suddenly sweet, "Excuse me, gentlemen – I would like a word with Mr Cullen: we have matters of an unpaid bet to attend to."

"Gambling against the ladies, eh, Cullen?" someone chuckled – I winced, imagining Edward's confusion; this was simply unfair, "You should know better – Ms Hale is a fierce opponent."

She laughed along with them, charismatic as always – Rosalie had always known how to charm any man within a few feet of her, "I thank you for the compliment...Mr Cullen?"

"Of course," I heard him say, "I should love to know what it is you want of me."

"I should think he does," someone else said, and there was a roar of laughter, as well as a lot of smacking – I could imagine them all clapping each other on the shoulder, pleased with their snarky comments. I felt my temper beginning to boil, and I grabbed Rosalie's arm, pulling her away.

"Rosalie, what on earth are you doing?"

"I am investigating," she smiled cheerily, "Why, am I upsetting you?"

"You are causing trouble for no reason! There is nothing going on between Edward and me-" I stuttered to a sudden halt – I realised then that I had made an almost certainly fatal mistake.

"Aha!" she cried triumphantly, "Why are you on first name terms with him, out of interest, if there is nothing going on?"

"Rosalie!" I cried, exasperated, "That was a simple mistake, I-"

"Ah," an amused voice interrupted, "So I assume it was not gambling you wished to talk to me about, Ms Hale?"

She turned, obstructing me from view, "Ah, Mr Cullen; no, it was not that, but this." She stepped to the side, revealing me standing there – I widened my eyes at him, shaking my head imperceptibly, trying to caution him. Do not let on. "I assume you know who she is?" Rosalie carried on; Edward chuckled, the amused sparkle in his eyes meaning more to me than it did to Rosalie – despite our situation, my heart still jumped a couple of beats at seeing him.

"Her grace, of course," he said, as if it were obvious, "Wife of my dear friend his grace, Henry Delaunay, Duke of Hertfordshire."

"Her name?"

He glanced at Rosalie quizzically, "Why must I tell you her name? You know who she is. If you must know, her name is Isabella Marie Delaunay."

"Marie?" Rosalie turned on me, "You have a second name?"

Edward and I both blanched, "No."

She saw straight through me, "How did Mr Cullen know that, Bella?"

"A lucky guess."

She turned to him, "I was not asking you, sir."

He shrugged, "I felt the need to answer. What are you accusing me of, Ms Hale? Cavorting with my very good friend his grace's wife? That would not be very good of me, now, would it?"

"I may be 'just a woman', but I am not stupid, Mr Cullen," she answered boldly, "I know there is something going on between you and Bella – I saw you dancing when you first arrived. I also saw you disappear into the garden; did you realise that you never returned?"

I knew I was completely white by now – there was nothing I could say to salvage the situation. Both Edward and I were trapped. Rosalie had us. She glanced between the two of us, waiting for an answer – Edward spoke first, his expression unchanging and calm.

"Excuse us for just a minute," he said politely, taking my arm and steering me away – I glanced back to see Rosalie cross her arms, one eyebrow cocked, watching us leave with a triumphant smile; I sighed, wondering what she would do and who she might tell. Rosalie could be so unpredictable. Edward walked me around the corner, so we were out of sight. "Right," he murmured, pushing me back against the wall, "First of all..." He pressed his lips quickly to mine and kissed me deeply, before pulling away and smiling, "Hello."

"Edward," I was a little dizzy, "Really...not the most appropriate of times."

"It never is," he replied, kissing me again, "But I missed you."

"I missed you too," I breathed, before shaking my head and pushing him away, "But still not the most appropriate of times, Edward...what are we to do about Rosalie?"

"I do not think there is much we can do...she knows there is something between us, does she not?"

I bit my lip, "Almost certainly." Edward wound his arms around my waist, warm and gentle – I moaned, "Oh, what shall we do? Now Rosalie knows..."

"Will she tell anyone?" Edward said urgently, "I will not let anyone take you away from me again, Bella, so if you think she will then we must make preparations for it."

"I...I do not think she will," I started, "She has been a very great friend to me – I think she simply wanted to know what was going on for the sake of knowing. Rosalie does not do things because of a malicious intent...well, not usually, but..."

"Bella," Edward said, "If that is so, then the only thing you should be asking yourself is whether you can trust her."

My lip should have been bleeding I was biting it so hard, grinding my teeth against the soft skin in my anxiety. "I think I can," I murmured, after a minute of silence, "Well...I hope I can."

"Well then," Edward lifted my chin, smiling at me encouragingly, "Then you must try. Besides: the more allies we have, the better, I suppose."

I sighed, "I suppose."

"Bella!" Rosalie called, a horrible smugness in her voice, "You have had long enough! I am beginning to think you are not just talking around that corner!"

"I should go," I made to twist out of his arms, but Edward stopped me, kissing me before I could move again – he smiled at me as he pulled away.

"Just in case something bad does happen."

I nodded, then turned away quickly, hurrying away from him before I could stop myself – Rosalie waited, hands on hips, her expression deadly, and I rolled my eyes at her as she said impetuously, "And where is Mr Cullen?"

"Come along, Rosalie," I groaned exasperatedly, "I will explain it all to you, just please, not here!" She frowned but conceded, letting me drag her back along the corridor and up the stairs, shutting us both in my small sitting room – I sat her down in the nearest chair, then interlocked my fingers and bit my lip, not sure what to say.

After a minute or two of cold silence, Rosalie spoke up. "So?" she demanded, "What is going on?" When I still did not speak, she made a tutting noise at the back of her throat, "Are you sleeping with him?"

I nodded.

"Regularly?"

I nodded again, determined to feel no shame no matter what she said. "Since he came."

"For that long?" she said, "Oh, Bella, what on earth are you thinking? You are a Duchess! You cannot do this!"

"What?" I was surprised by that, "Rosalie, you always said I should!"

"I did not mean it!" she cried, "Oh, you idiot, Isabella!"

"Rosalie, I thought you would understand..."

"What I cannot understand," Rosalie snapped, "Is why you insist on prolonging this...this _obsession_, with no apparent care for what might happen if you were caught! Do you want to kill an innocent man, Bella, because that is what will happen if you carry on dallying with him...how selfish you are, if that is true!"

"Rosalie" I tried again, "It is not just a fleeting obsession – what I have with Edward is completely different. I love him." Rosalie groaned, and I sighed, "Rosalie, it is different, I promise you!"

"It is no different," she scoffed, "You are an adulteress – nothing more than that."

I sighed, knowing I would not get through to her by shouting – her mouth was set, eyes hard, her judgement obviously already made. I decided then there was no point in hiding anything from her, if that was so.

"You do not know, Rosalie," I whispered, staring out of the window, across the lake and rolling green fields, hardly seeing them – I could feel her gaze on me, but I did not turn around. "I knew Edward before. Before all this happened, before you even met me." I took a deep breath, "His real name is Edward Masen, and he lived on my estate with me and my family. I fell in love with him when I was seventeen years old, after many years of confusion and desperation and sadness...he loved me since I was thirteen, you see, and he was stupid enough not to tell me." I smiled despite myself at the memory, "I loved him so much that if I could, I would have married him there and then...if I could, I would have gone away with him and we would have had a family and a house instead of just this. But life tore us apart, Rose. My sister ran away, my father died, my mother went to my Uncle...and he forced us away from each other.

"You do not know how much I cried, when he left me. With Henry, the night after we were married – I cried until dawn; until my throat was so raw that every breath felt like sandpaper in my mouth. You will never understand how I felt – like my heart had been ripped out; it was still there, beating in my chest, but it felt as if it were dead. Every pulse hurt me, every time I took a breath, I could not fill my body with enough air; I always choked. That was how much I missed him, Rosalie." I turned to her, then, feeling my voice take on a harsh, broken tone, "You will never understand, but that was how I felt. Every day. Every day, for four years, I couldn't breathe. I could hardly think without thinking of him. I missed him all the time – I had no reprieve from the knowledge that I would probably never see him again. Once, I actually wished I were dead, just so I did not have to live without him." I was near shouting now, "I had nightmares! I would wake up in the night screaming for him, and no one would hear me. I would lie there, all night, alone, just missing him and trying to keep breathing. Trying to find some way to stay alive, instead of just giving up. Instead of turning my face into my pillow and...and.." I took a shuddering breath, "I have not cried in four years! Not once have I let myself cry – not in the uncountable times that I have had to let Henry into my bedroom and wish he were Edward, nor when my sister nearly died giving birth to my niece...not even when my own mother died! I could not even cry then, because he was gone, and nothing had ever been more painful than that."

I stood, towering over her – her blue eyes were wide; I could see my angry self reflected in her gaze, "You will never understand, Rosalie. You never loved someone like I do Edward. You will never know what it is like to lose someone who meant so much to you – I have been broken, all these years, and now Edward has returned and I..." my voice was deadly and hushed, cutting through her, I knew, "I cannot live without him. There is nothing I can do, not anymore. I was lost without him, and I will not let him go again. Do not even think to judge me, Rosalie Hale. You do not know what I have gone through – you could not imagine what I have gone through. Life has been too cruel to me, and I will not give Edward up, not for anything. I love him, Rosalie, and he loves me." I laughed slightly, "Adulterous I may be, but I have never been my husband's wife. I have always been Edward's." With that I swept out of the room, turning my back on her and closing the door with a sharp click.

Edward was standing at the end of the hallway, and, with a quick darting look around me to check that we were alone I went to him. Taking his hand, we walked together to his bedroom – he shut the door, then turned and held out his arms.

"Bella...come here."

Sighing, I obeyed, letting him wrap his arms around me and sinking into his embrace.

"I love you," he whispered to me gently, holding me close to his chest, and I could hear his slow, steady heartbeat, wonderfully reassuring in his solidness, his _thereness_, "Never forget how much I love you."

"I could not live without you, Edward," I replied simply, before burrowing closer to him and closing my eyes, letting his warmth and his love sooth my troubles as it always could.

"I am never leaving you again," Edward sighed, his head shaking firmly atop mine, "Never again. It hurt me far too much."

"It hurt me too," I murmured, "But I am better now. So much better."

I knew he was smiling, "Me too."

* * *

"Bella?" Rosalie knocked gently on my door the next morning – Edward and I were nestled in the warm, twisted sheets, him leaning up against a bedpost and me settled against him, my legs bent out underneath me, staring out of the window whilst he rested his head on mine, his nose pressed up against my jaw and his breath tickling my skin. I was experiencing a rare period of perfect solitude and contentment, the silence like a blanket around me, soothing and comforting. It was hard to imagine a better place to be – there in the sunshine, with Edward's arms around me and only my happy thoughts with which to occupy myself. A faint smile rested on my lips that had been there for the better part of an hour. When Rosalie knocked Edward sighed gently, one that I echoed as he pulled away, sitting up – I turned to gaze at the door, wondering whether I should pretend I was still irritated with her and not open it. I certainly did not feel inclined to, and by the look on Edward's face, neither did he. "Bella? Please can I come in? I need to speak with you."

I moaned quietly, and Edward whispered in my ear, "You might as well, Bella. After what happened yesterday...you should speak with her to make sure she knows our situation."

"You are right," I murmured, looking up at him, "I know you are."

"Shall I leave?" he said, and I shook my head decisively.

"No. She knows you exist," I smiled, "There is no reason why I should hide you."

"Bella?"

"The door is open, Rosalie," I said, before I could change my mind – she came in, her slim frame slipping through the door, closing it quietly behind her. If anything could be said for Rosalie, I thought as I watched her: she was not stupid. I knew that if she wanted, she could be a very good friend to me – if only I could trust that she wanted to be. Rosalie turned, and she did not seem surprised at how Edward and I were positioned; she came to sit beside us without hesitating, but her face did not hold her usual confidence. Today she seemed...nervous. Upset.

Edward spoke first. "Miss Rosalie," he said, calm and polite as ever, "Would you mind telling us why you are here? We do not have much time, you see, and quite soon Bella will be missed..."

"Yes, yes, of course," Rosalie sounded flustered, "Bella, first I wanted to say I that I am so sorry for what I said to you yesterday – you must understand, I did not-"

I cut her off, not liking how upset she was. "Rosalie," I leaned forward to take her hand, trying to encourage her normal smile back onto her face, "I have no quarrel with you – all is forgiven. I know you could not have understood: I held so much back from you all these years, and it is understandable that you should be angry with me." I sighed, sitting back and glancing at Edward, who was watching us both carefully, "Granted, I am not behaving in the best of ways but..." Edward smiled at me, his eyes twinkling, dazzling me as he always did – I laughed helplessly, gesturing to him, "How could I resist?"

"How indeed," Rosalie murmured, her expression unfathomable as Edward wound his arms back around me in response and kissed my neck, burying his face in my hair – I watched her carefully, wondering how she was planning to react. When her words did come, however, they were not what I expected. "Cullen," she suddenly barked, back to her old, haughty self, "You love Bella?"

Edward seemed surprised, but he murmured obediently, "With all my heart."

"Keep it that way, and we should not have a problem," she smiled exasperatedly at me, "Trust you to find the most complicated path and then follow it."

I shrugged, "You know me."

"Sadly enough, I do," she laughed, "Now, if you could just attempt to keep yourselves out of trouble? Henry is a genial man, but I do not think he will react well to adultery." She saw me open my mouth to protest, and she waved her hands exasperatedly, "Fine, fine, 'lovers': if you insist." She stood before either of us could utter a word in response, "Now, I must go – if you wish I shall tell his grace you are feeling ill? I suppose on such a lovely day you want more of each other's company?"

"Well, yes-"

"Good, done," Rosalie had already opened the door, "I will see you at dinner then, Bella. Mr Masen," she winked, then the door clicked and she was gone.

Edward turned to me, raising his brows. "She...she is something," he said, and I laughed.

"She is something indeed."

* * *

**:)**

**Review? :D **

**ATO out xxx**


	30. Indulge

**Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!**

**Ok. I know it's been ages. And I know I promised to be better! But...I wasn't. All I can say is continued lack of inspiration :/ But fanfiction is increasingly becoming my place to escape to again, so maybe I'll actually begin writing properly again :) I promise you will see much more of me! :D**

**Anyway, just to remind you all (or maybe the one person who reads this now ;) ) Formerly in FMN**

**- Bella is married to a duke (Henry) and split up from childhood love, Edward. Mother and Father are both dead, Alice is living in London with Jasper and her daughter Olivia (all set in 1700s)**

**- Edward has come back, relationship has been resumed (duh). He and Emmett are musicians to Duke Henry's 'court', as you could say.**

**- Rosalie now knows what is up (she guessed, being the clever bean that she is)**

**- Now everything is haps and wraps and bunny rabbits :)**

**Woot! :) **

**Read on, my brave warriors!

* * *

**

As slow, uneventful weeks turned into slow, uneventful months, a new routine was quickly established – each day Edward and I would spend apart, and each night we would spend together. It was as simple and easy as that: with a few stolen hours here and there and the occasional near-discovery to keep things interesting, my life was nothing less than glorious. Rosalie and I would giggle together often, an even stronger friendship growing between us due to her knowledge of my secret: she said that she had decided to approve of Edward only because he apparently made me much less depressing to be around, which of course was true. I could not deny that. Never before had I smiled and laughed so easily – even Henry had noticed, though obviously he was lost for the reason why. I supposed he accredited it to my odd womanly ways, and he never did confront me about my sudden burst of joviality for the rest of the time we were married. All I knew at that time was that Edward was finally with me, and life could not be better.

There had been a few close calls – the worst came on a Monday, when I had been on my way past the piano room and I heard Edward playing there. Of course, since the corridor was deserted, I took my chance and slipped inside, much to his pleasure; after a few minutes sitting beside him, listening as he coaxed heartbreakingly beautiful music out of the piano, I was particularly entranced by him, more so than usual if that was possible. He had felt me gazing at him, turned to look back at me with those heartbreakingly green eyes...needless to say, when he slid his hands around my waist and kissed me, I did not complain. We spent a few glorious minutes wrapped around each other – I was absolutely lost in him, and so it was only a few seconds before they arrived that we heard the footsteps.

Luckily, Edward had been a little more coherent than I – he quickly pushed me off the stool, hissed "Dance" at me, then struck up a waltzing tune. When Henry walked through the door, he found me attempting to waltz alone while Edward played for me: I claimed that I had wanted to practise, and somehow, with a little flirting on my part, he believed us. Of course, that night I had paid the price for my weakness. Henry had felt particularly...encouraged by my display of affection.

It had felt nothing less than strange to wake up the next morning without Edward, and to find Henry there, smiling at me and tangling my hair around his fingers. He'd been in a very good mood, so much so that the old nickname of 'my dove' was thrown about, and it was all I could do not to run from the room. Henry meant no harm, but it was sickening all the same. How quickly Edward had worked his way into my life again! It had only been a few weeks, and already I could not bear to spend one night away from him – I could not bring myself to feel guilty about this. I did, however, feel extremely guilty at the sadness in Edward's eyes at breakfast that morning: he refused to meet my gaze, no matter how obviously I stared at him. I spent the whole meal in agony, rubbing my lip raw with my teeth and tapping my fingers on the table, unable to bear not being able to go and reassure him.

I supposed this was the dark side to our relationship – I could never be truly faithful to him, and he knew that as well as I. It did bewilder me sometimes, how true and loyal he was, despite all my faults and all the mistakes I made throughout my life. But still, I could imagine it hurt me just as much as it hurt him, and this was what inspired me to sneak away from the library, where Henry had wanted me to read with him, and down the hall later that morning.

Emmett was playing for everyone else in the red room, well-dressed well-wishers gathered around him as he spun a soft and haunting melody from his strings – I managed to slip in unnoticed and move up behind Edward, alerting him to my presence by taking his hand and squeezing it in my own. He barely glanced down at me, but I could see a hint of a smile on his lips: he gripped my fingers tight and mouthed: _I'm sorry_.

"Me too," I murmured, pressing close to him and smiling back – looking around me, I chanced pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping out, knowing I would be missed by Henry if I stayed away from him for long.

The rest of the day was spent particularly more pointlessly than normal; usually I could bear the boredom of my days with the ladies and the poetry and the reading and the sewing, all to spent some time laughing with Rosalie in the garden under the sun, no matter what the weather. Of course, since Edward's return, my days had brightened considerably due to the fact that I spent my nights in bliss with him, but even so, today had been especially dull. Rosalie was out in town with Emmett, it was raining, Edward was too busy to be stolen away…eventually I ended up on the windowseat in my favourite red living room, my head resting against the cold glass, staring blankly across the grey sky and murky fields. I allowed myself to drift away in the silence, enveloping myself in the memories that were beginning to spring up out of my stillness.

There was Papa and Mama…Alice…Edward in his youth, only just growing into his hair and his jaw, awkward and clumsy yet still beautiful, and his eyes too big for his face. Alice as a child, her hair bobbed and neatly curled, running across the grounds while I watched her from the window of our room – I remembered that warm feeling of sisterhood, a rush of love for her choking my throat…kissing Edward for the first time, hugging Papa, eating dinner and laughing with all the maids…I wrapped my arms tight around myself and stopped the flow of silver-edged memories, afraid they would take me over and there would more than just that one tear floating gently down my cheek.

I missed my home, my old life and my family more than I could say.

"Bella?" Rosalie poked her head around the door, smiling brightly at me – I abruptly realised how self-pitying and pathetic I was being, and quickly steeled myself, closing those doors in my heart without much effort. I wanted to forget.

"Yes?"

"The ball is beginning in a few hours – we need to get ready."

"Of course," I smiled back at her, moving over to take her outstretched hand, "Yes, of course."

"How are you tonight, my love?" Henry asked me as he led me around the dance floor – I was noticeably less steady in his arms than I was in Edward's, and I smiled, nervous that I should step on his foot like he always hated.

"Well," I replied absentmindedly; Edward was watching me intently from his place on the piano stool, and it was severely distracting. Henry could tell, and he frowned.

"Are you sure? You seem…preoccupied with something."

I turned back to look at him and offered him a wide, bright smile, trying as hard as I could to reassure him – as I had learn from four years of marriage to this man, all he really wanted from me was reassurance of my affection for him, which I was happy enough to give as long as it did not involve kissing him. "Of course," I smiled, "I am always well."

He smiled too, and we danced the rest of the song in companionable silence – I wondered idly to myself whether Henry and I would have ever been friends, in different circumstances, but then the song ended and he was gone in a flash, joining his friends who were now clustered around the piano. After a quick glance at it, determining at once that Edward was no longer there for me to speak to, I instead made for Rosalie who was standing a few metres away, gazing in another direction. I called to her, and she beckoned me over urgently. "What is it, Rose?" I said interestedly – she raised her brows at me.

"Bella," Rosalie gestured into the crowd with a sharp tilt of her head, "Look."

I did as she asked, and gasped – it was Edward she had directed my gaze to, who seemed to be in very intense conversation with a tall, thin woman, who had long, silvery-blonde hair. "What?" I whispered, a toxic cocktail of anger and betrayal suddenly shooting through me; but then the girl turned her head, and my heart sunk. It was none other than my cousin. "Jane," I whispered, shaking my head, "Oh, dear lord, no..."

"You know her?" Rosalie asked – I hardly heard her, already starting off into the crowd, anger making me reckless. "Bella! Stop!" she called, but I was already gone.

Edward shook his head frantically at me as I approached, probably trying to tell me not to do something that could potentially be incredibly stupid, but I disregarded that: after all my cousin had done, all the hurt she had brought, I simply could not believe her insolence in coming here.

"Excuse me," I tapped her on the shoulder as I came up behind her, my voice cold and icy – Edward quickly extricated himself from her grip on his hands as she turned, her eyes widening on sight of me.

"Cousin!" she swept into a curtsey and I narrowed my gaze; Edward had already fled.

"That would be your Grace to you, Miss Swan," I answered curtly, letting her squirm.

"Of course," she said – people were looking at us, and there was no way she could be rude to me: I was a Duchess after all. She lifted her head carefully, the apprehension obvious in her eyes, and I could not help but smile smugly as I inclined my head in return.

"Forgive me," I snapped, "But I just came to remind you that this is not a brothel, and I will not condone any such displays of public lewdness." Jane's eyes flicked to the left, where Emmett and Rosalie were now very publicly kissing in a shadowy corner, but I refused to show any acknowledgement of this fact – I stared her down, not looking away until she curtseyed again.

"Of course, your Grace."

"Good. Now, if you will excuse me." I swept away, leaving her behind me – I could feel her sharp gaze on my back, her hatred so strong it was a pressure against my skin, but I did not care. I was more powerful than her, and it was time that she knew it. In the corner of my eye I spotted Edward slipping behind a curtain, his eyes on me and a teasing smile on his face – I made a beeline for him, looking carefully around me to make sure Jane was not watching before quickly sliding into its soft red depths.

Edward's hands were around my waist at once, pulling me against his chest – it was the first time I had seen him since last night. "My, my," he murmured, his hair falling over my forehead as he pressed his head to mine, "What on earth was going on there, hmmm?"

I was breathing heavily, anger and jealousy pulsing hard through me, "I loathe her," I whispered heartily, "Oh, I hate her so much. How dare she come here…how dare she! After all she has done…"

Edward chuckled, brushing his fingers against my cheek. "Why," he said, "I do believe someone is jealous."

That caught my attention. "Jealous?" I said, "Me? Of course not!"

He laughed again, his eyes smouldering at me, weakening my resolve. "There is no need to be worried my love," he muttered, warm breath fanning across my face as he brought his lips closer to mine, his hands a firm and steady pressure against my back now, "You know I live and breathe only for you."

"Edward," I murmured, my anger all but forgotten now – he was invading my mind, pushing all else aside until all I could feel was want for him. I coughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere, knowing we were unsafe, "You are so melodramatic."

"I think I am going to have to convince you with a demonstration."

I shook my head, even as I let him put his lips so close they rubbed together as I spoke, "No...no...we cannot..."

There was a moment where I thought he would kiss me anyway, but he did not – he pulled back, straightening up to his full height again. Thankful, since I knew that I would not have been able to do that myself, I took a deep breath, trying to still my ever-racing heart. Edward gazed down at me, the shadows on his face making him seem dark and powerful: his eyes were burning. "My bedroom tonight. No excuses," he whispered, "I will be waiting for you there." I barely had time to nod before he was gone, like a ghost in how he seemed to disappear into thin air – I let out the choked gasp I had been holding, letting myself fold back against the wall.

This really was totally unacceptable, I mused to myself as I stood there, trying to regain control of my heart. I would have to do something about my complete lack of self control…

I ran into Jane again as soon as I exited the curtain; I brushed past her, ignoring when she called after me, hurrying into the crowd and leaving my past behind me. No matter what she knew, I could not bring myself to worry about her yet. I had much better things waiting for me tonight.

"Rose," I came up behind her, resting my chin on her shoulder and murmuring in her ear, "Cover me, please."

She nodded, then as I twisted back into the shadowy corners I heard her call out, "Your Grace! How about a game of cards?" Thanking God for her all over again, I slipped out the door, taking off my shoes so I could run that much faster down the dark corridors. I reached his room within a few minutes, twisting the knob in the darkness and pushing it open soundlessly.

"Edward?"

Suddenly he was there – I gasped despite myself as he grabbed me roughly, pulling me to him. "Bella," he murmured, then all at once he was kissing me, fingers coming up to frame my face, holding me there as he pressed in deeper. All I could do was sigh, completely struck dumb by him; he picked me up off my feet to carry me across the room, and I laughed breathlessly.

"Edward..."

"Hush," he murmured, dropping me on the bed, "I promised you a demonstration of my undying love and fidelity, did I not?" He moved across me, grinning in the darkness, "This demonstration requires you to not talk."

Needless to say, I forgot all my jealous rage at Jane – Edward was simply far too distracting. A while later he chuckled in my ear, turning over to wrap his arms around my waist from where he had been lying on his back before, both of us listening to our ragged breathing and waiting for our racing hearts to slow.

"I feel so much better now," he murmured out of the darkness, pushing my tangled hair back with his fingers and kissing my temple gently, "Oh, god, it was torture lying here alone last night..."

"I know," I whispered back, locked in his eyes, "It was for me too."

"He did not hurt you, did he?" Edward asked – I shook my head.

"Of course not. He is a kind man: he thinks that I am shy and delicate and I must be treated carefully," I laughed gently, "Well, that is true when I am with him, I suppose." Edward did not laugh or comment, and I sensed he was uncomfortable talking about this – I snatched my next words up quickly, trying to lighten his mood. "Besides," I said, "He is not allowed to take off my nightgown anymore." I lifted my head to kiss him gently, holding our heads together with my fingers tight in his hair and whispering against his lips, "That privilege is reserved only for you."

"Mmm," Edward sighed, smiling back at me now, fingers quite deliberately coasting across my naked body which was pressed up against his, "I suppose I can live with that, then. As long as it is always off when we are together," his grin turned wicked, "As beautiful as you are in your dresses, it is always so much more of a bother to imagine you clothes-less if you are not already."

I gasped, scandalised and embarrassed at the same time, "Edward!"

"What?" he replied, chuckling, "I am a man, and as a man who is both very much in love and very able to be with the woman I love, I do not see the need to control my thoughts – it is not as if they are incredibly inappropriate."

"They are in public company!" I blushed scarlet at the thought of him watching me and thinking of me that way, unable to help myself, "I mean...oh Edward..."

He shook his head at me, still laughing. "Oh, Bella," he said, "You are funny. Getting embarrassed about something as small as this when you have no qualms about me touching you or kissing you when no one is looking..."

"That is different," I tried to defend myself, "I am always wearing clothes at those times."

"And I always wish you are not," he winked, leading me to slap him on the forearm – he grabbed my wrists and rolled over, pinning them above my head and pinning me down to the mattress with his body. "Now, now," he murmured, smiling smoulderingly, "None of that..."

"You are such a man," I muttered grouchily, my mood not improving when he chuckled.

"That I am, my love..."

When he grinned fondly at me, his green eyes sparkling, his grip making my sides tingle gently, I could do nothing else but laugh.

He was lying on his back while I lay across him, elbow propped up on the pillow and my head on his shoulder, untying and retying the laces of his shirt while his fingertips gently rubbed the back of my neck. We had lapsed into one of our comfortable silences, when neither of us felt the need to speak because there was literally nothing we needed to say to each other. We were absolutely content in each other's presence – it was wonderful to be that way with someone, I had found. After a while I remembered something that I had wanted to say, idly letting my words float out into the air as I pondered them absently.

"We cannot keep doing this, you know," I said, sliding down so I lay against him, our chests pressed together, me on top with my chin propped up on my hands – he smiled teasingly at me.

"Sleeping together?" he said, "Forgive me if I disagree – making love is a very valuable and essential pastime, in my opinion."

"No," I said, shaking my head fondly at him, "Not that. You know what I mean...sneaking off in the middle of balls, never finishing an evening..."

"But it's so risqué!" Edward feigned horror and I elbowed him gently.

"Someone will find out eventually...we both know what their first suspicions will be, and unfortunately they will be absolutely correct." I sighed, "We have to be more careful."

Edward frowned, "I do not see how we can be any more careful than we are, love. For God's sake, I barely even look at you when we are not alone together. My whole day consists of complete pointlessness, and I am not sure I would be able to bear it if you told me we could not be together each night."

I knew I had upset him – the slight edge to his tone told me that – and I wondered whether maybe I was being a little too anxious. Edward had put his life on hold for me, and he hated it here...that added guilt to the cocktail of fear and desire. Wonderful.

Edward was speaking again, his tone apologetic now. "Sorry," he murmured, glancing away, "I know you are right...and I do enjoy the sports we play." He smiled at me, even though I was too busy wallowing in self-loathing to answer him, "My days are not that horrible." When I still did not reply, he sighed, "Oh, Bella, do not look like that – it is not your fault I chose to stay here."

"Well-"

"Bella," he gazed at me steadily, "Stop it. I will not hear of it."

I sighed, "Fine."

"What was the rest of your point? I cannot help but ask...are you suggesting we stop seeing each other every night?"

"No," I said at once, "No, not at all." I was rewarded with a smile from him.

"Good."

"What I meant was...we simply need to be more careful, that is all. Live out each evening instead of leaving halfway through – maybe there should be a few mornings a week in which we both get up early and show ourselves formally at breakfast." I shrugged, tapping his chest gently and biting my lip, "Oh, I am not sure, Edward: all I know is that I could not bear to lose you again because of carelessness. That is far too large a price to pay, especially if a few small measures could stop it."

There was a silence, in which I stared at the twisted cord of Edward's shirt and wondered what was going through his mind...as always, I need not have worried: as soon as he lifted my chin with a finger I knew he understood. He smiled, "You worry for more than the both of us, you know that?"

I smiled, "I cannot help it."

He shook his head at me, "Silly girl. But you are right: we should be more careful. No more sneaking off in the evenings, unless we feel a particular desire to which is more powerful than normal. But I refuse to leave you in the mornings – that is the only time in which I actually get to see you in daylight. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

We smiled at each other, and then he kissed me gently – I closed my eyes and sighed as he rolled onto his side and we lapsed into stillness again. He did not sleep, which told me that he too had something on his mind. Waiting for him to voice his thoughts, and knowing that he would, I moved onto my back beside him, wrapped myself up lazily in the sheets and propped my feet up on the bedpost, content with stillness for now.

"We should go away," Edward murmured presently, words directed at the pillow more than to me – I smiled to myself, proud that I knew him so well.

"Go away?" I questioned idly, not looking at him as I gently pulled my legs in circles, stretching the tired muscles.

"Together."

"Mmm," I murmured in reply, closing my eyes and smiling a little, "Yes: that would be nice. Perhaps we could go for a walk..."

I heard him chuckle gently, "I did not mean so close, silly girl." He nudged me gently with an elbow so I would look over at him properly – his eyes were bright and serious, "I mean properly _away_. Together."

"Properly away?" My brain was still confused, slowed by my distant sleepiness, "Where?" I blinked at him, bewildered, and that made him laugh again.

"Like to France. Or to Spain," he rolled over, propping himself up on his elbow and reaching out to stroke my jaw, fingers burning my skin, "Somewhere where we could be together like we used to be. Where we would not have to hide...where we could be together in actual daylight."

"Oh...the way we are now is not so bad," I reasoned, turning to lie on my side, shaking the lethargy from my mind, "At least we are together every night."

"Every night," Edward repeated, sighing deeply, "And it is always so fulfilling, hiding my love for you from the world."

"Come now," I said, shuffling over to wrap my arms around his warm neck, pushing his hair back and running my fingers through it fondly, "It is a wonderful idea, but do you really think we would ever be allowed to travel to a place as far away all alone? Without my husband, nor an entourage of who knows how many people?"

He sighed again, "I know, I know…I just so wish that we could." I could not really think of anything else to say to that, so instead I carried on playing gently with his hair, trying not to feel too guilty as he gazed sadly over my shoulder. "How about Alice?" Edward suddenly said after a few more minutes of silence, "In London? We could go and visit her, together, could we not?"

"Hmm," I murmured, "That is not too bad an idea…Henry would definitely not be adverse to me going, he never is…but how would we make it so you could come too?"

"As protection?" Edward suggested, his face bright now, "Company?"

I smiled sadly, "I would have Rosalie for that."

"Oh." His face dropped and I bit my lip, hating the sudden sorrow that lined his eyes.

"But who knows?" I piped up quickly, trying to sound bright, "I'm sure we will be able to find a way."

"And...perhaps we could visit my parents one day too?"

I smiled at him at once, taking in his hopeful face and knowing that this was one wish of his I did want to fulfil. "Of course you can do that," I replied, "Simply tell me when you want to go and I shall get you there."

"No," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his forehead against mine, heat at once stealing its way across my body again, "I meant both of us." Edward smiled gently, "Mother and Father will have missed you as well as me...they will definitely wish to see you. And besides, Mother would berate me for not taking you along if I could." He saw my apprehension, and sighed, "Is that impossible too?"

"That would be...more difficult," I admitted, resting my head on his chest and sighing, "But we will do all of that, Edward. I will find a way one day soon."

I felt him kiss the top of my head. "I know you will," he murmured, pulling me closer in his arms and letting out a long breath, making his chest sink a little underneath me, "I know you will."

"I am sorry, Edward," I said abruptly, his small vote of confidence in me doing nothing to dispel the guilt, "I really am. I am sorry for all that you have lost by staying with me…you know that I love having you here?"

"Bella," he answered, humour in his voice, "You are very silly, you know."

I smiled to myself, not looking at him but knowing he was smiling too, "Yes, I know."


	31. Disease

**Yes, I know it's been ages. Yes, I know I'm a horrible updater. But here is a chapter now :)**

**Just to remind anyone who's forgotten - Edward and Bella have resumed their relationship, her husband Duke Henry is unaware, Rosalie is with Emmett, Edward's best friend, Rosalie knows about Edward and Bella...Jane, Bella's cousin, has also returned, but hasn't caused much trouble as of yet. :)**

**Read on, my brave warriors!**

* * *

A few nights later, after another long, wistful conversation where Edward described the bustling heat of Barcelona to me and promised he would take me there someday, I sighed as we settled amongst the pillows, rolling into his arms. "You know," I murmured, running my fingers across his bare chest and enjoying how his skin felt against my fingers, "I am really glad you came back, Edward."

As if that sentiment had not been repeated enough. Edward smiled, tipping his head to kiss my temple – I looked up to smile back at him, reaching to touch his cheek, but my fingers tingled more than they usually did when our skin met. I gasped, flattening my palm to his cheek to suddenly realise that he was burning hot.

"Edward?" I asked at once, "Are you feeling well?"

"Well enough," he replied, smile fading into a confused frown, "Why?"

"It is...well..." I bit my lip, testing the skin of his forehead with the back of my hand, "Edward, you are very very warm."

"I am always feeling warm when I am with you," he murmured, ducking down to kiss me, but I did not let him. I rolled away, moving to kneel beside him – he rolled his eyes as I pushed his hair back, searching his face for something, even though I was not sure what it was. "Bella, I am fine," he insisted, "Really..." My heart sunk as his words were cut off by a low, throaty cough – he sat up too, coughing hard, and it was all I could do to sit and rub his back soothingly beside him until the coughing ceased. "Sorry," he muttered, looking away – I fixed him with my sternest glare.

"Edward, how long have you had this cough?"

"I could not tell you," he said still avoiding my gaze, "Perhaps a few days?"

I bit my lip, anxiety rising quickly in me – I felt his head again. "Edward," I said, "You must be ill, you have a fever!"

"Nonsense..."

"Lie down," I commanded, cutting him off and pushing him back down on the pillows – he protested, but I ignored him. "Edward, you are sick, and so you must rest."

"Honestly," he muttered as I tucked the covers over him before settling down beside him, "Love, there is nothing wrong with me...I was perfectly fine in your eyes a few minutes ago…" He rolled his eyes as I stopped him from wrapping his arms around me, determinedly pulling away, "Oh, Bella, would you stop being so ridiculous…I am fine, believe me."

"I will be the judge of that," I replied, eying the lumps under his jaw and the light sheen of sweat on his forehead with apprehension – how could I have not noticed earlier how feverish he was? It seemed so obvious now. He shook his head at me, looking exasperated, but he submitted, turning over to gaze at me as I shuffled under the bedclothes beside him. I watched him fall asleep, so tired myself now that I could barely keep my eyes open – Edward and I usually fell asleep together when the moon was high in the sky and everyone else had long since gone to bed, so this was not unusual. He often fell asleep before me, and I would watch him happily, observing the way his chest rose and fell and the way his lips moved in his sleep so closely I had them memorised. And so, I knew something was wrong when his chest trembled as he slept and he murmured in his sleep: I was the one to sleep talk, not him.

But it was too late for me to worry. I could not bring myself to think that he might be ill – I told myself firmly that I was only being paranoid, while all the time avoiding the voice in the back of my head that suggested otherwise, closed my eyes firmly and fell into as fitful a sleep as he.

The next morning, when I woke up to find Edward pale and shuddering beside me, I knew for certain that something was wrong. It was lucky we had retired to his room that night, or we would certainly have been in dire trouble – as it was, I could hardly bear to leave him there for more than five minutes, in order to alert Henry to his illness.

As I hurried down the corridor, dressed haphazardly in my dressing-gown and no shoes, I wondered blindly how exactly I was going to explain to Henry my sudden knowledge of Edward's sickness. But either way, I was not going to waste a second, for each second could count towards Edward's life. I was aware I was being rather melodramatic, but I was not educated in medicine, and so had no idea what could be wrong with him: all I knew was that I wanted him to see a physician as soon as possible.

My heart dropped into my stomach to see servants hurrying in and out of Henry's room as I approached – it dropped to my feet to see the expressions on their faces as they noticed my arrival. "Your Grace!" those who were not moving swept into curtseys and bows, and Mary came forward, "Your Grace, please, you should not go in there, his Grace is-"

I pushed her away as gently as I could, rushing inside to find Henry lying there in much the same state as Edward – again, my mind could not help but note the irony of this, but I was lost for words. Mary ran up beside me, her quick words flying across my head like so much as air, and I interrupted her worried ramblings, after a minute or so of my own musings, to ask, "Has the physician been?"

"No, not yet," she stammered, "John has called for him."

"Good, good." Well, I thought then, I might as well take charge of this situation, as the Lady of the house. That would be better than beginning to panic. Taking a deep breath, I called the housekeeper over, who was standing over by the open door looking fretful.

"Yes, your Grace?"

"Mrs Willis, would you be so kind as to arrange care for my husband until the physician gets here?" She nodded, and I added, "And keep the door closed – we do not wish for this illness to spread around the house if we can help it."

"Yes, your Grace, of course."

"And after the physician has told us his verdict, follow his orders to the letter – there is no need to consult me if I am not there," I did not intend to be, "Now, I shall go and check the rest of the house for sickness."

"Very good, your Grace," she turned and hurried away, and I left in confidence that she would handle everything. Mrs Willis was a generally calm and intelligent woman when she put her mind to it – she would be alright looking after Henry.

"Angela!" I called then, bringing her forward to walk beside me, "Would you also tell the physician to check in on Mr Cullen? He has come down with this sickness too."

Angela gasped accordingly, "Oh, how terrible!"

"Yes, I passed his room on the way here to find him terribly sick," the explanation was not needed, but I could not help but unconsciously defend myself, "His door was open, you see…"

"Of course, your Grace," Angela answered, "How fortunate it was you were there." I could feel her slight, amused smile - she knew precisely what was going on. But still, I ignored that as Angela hurried away in the opposite direction; as soon as she was gone and the corridor was empty I picked up my feet and raced back to Edward's room, half-flying across the wooden floor in my haste to be by his side. Pushing open the door I flung myself across the room, scrambling onto the bed so fast I almost tumbled head over heels – Edward smiled weakly when he saw me.

"Hello," he whispered, his voice weaker and raspier than it was before; I bit my lip, reaching out to press my hand against his forehead. It was hotter than Henry's.

"I sent for the physician, Edward," I told him, stroking his hair gently, trying to be soothing, "He will be here soon. You will be alright, I promise you."

"There is nothing wrong with me," he protested, "It is just a touch of flu…"

"Hush," I murmured, trying to smile even though my heart was cold. I kissed him gently, pressing my lips to his and feeling them burn, "Everything will be alright, Edward – just rest now." He sighed, closing his eyes and obeying me without protesting anymore; I watched him fall into a fitful sleep, sitting back on my heels beside him and feeling like a small, frightened child rather than a calm and collected Duchess.

When the physician called in on Edward I slipped out the door, wishing I could tell him goodbye but knowing I could not – what struck me, much as I tried hard to push the thought away, was that, if Edward really was close to death, then those moments could have been my last with him. That short, sweet kiss we had shared what seemed so long ago now could be the last…he might die today. But I forced my mind into silence, refusing to acknowledge any of my thoughts, for I knew they could incapacitate me – Edward would not die. I would not allow it. I could not allow it to happen.

As the day wore on the situation only worsened – half of the household had quickly come down with the strange illness, which the physician could only put down to a particularly bad case of the flu. "It has spread across most of the surrounding countryside, I heard," he said mournfully to me - my cousin and most of the servants I ordered to be packed up and sent away to their families, but those who were left quickly deteriorated. In Edward and Henry's cases, the physician had told me darkly, it was threatening to become influenza, and I had to restrain myself from bursting into tears there and then.

The rest of the day I sat dutifully by Henry's side, sponging his forehead and watching him murmur deliriously - but I desperately wished to be at Edward's. The fear that Henry would die – and I was afraid and scared for him, because he was my husband and had been nothing but a friend to me these past four years – was freezing in the pit of my stomach, but the horrible, all-consuming terror that Edward would die far outnumbered the fear. It was almost heartstopping to imagine him lying, pale and cold and afraid, too close to the gates of death, without me. I had seen my father die, and knew the pain of that – I did not think I could live through the pain of losing Edward.

After an unbroken four hour vigil, staying into the night with Henry, I felt it was appropriate to feign exhaustion, and after a quick squeeze of his clammy hand, a smile, and a check of the wet cloth on his head, I hurried from the room, leaving Mary to take my place. I flew to Edward's room, yanking open the door and throwing myself inside, gasping for him as if I were starved of air. "Edward!" I whispered urgently, moving to the dark shadow that was the bed, "Edward, Edward, please...oh, please be alive...God, please..."

"Bella," I heard him whisper, lying alone there in the dark, and I could have laughed in relief.

"Edward," I knelt down, feeling for his hand – it was noticeably warmer than Henry's, and I bit my lip before squeezing it gently, "Edward, I am here." I reached out, put a hand to his dim forehead, my eyes adjusting to the darkness – he was positively boiling, and dread began to build, surrounding my heart, making it cold. "Oh Edward," I sighed, holding his hand tighter, "Do not worry, Edward, I will look after you...you will be fine, I promise you..."

What worried me further was that he was not even demanding my immediate retreat, which was the norm when he was ill. He was too weak to even protest anymore, which meant his condition was indeed dire. Letting go of his hand and assuring him I would be back within the minute, I hurried to the curtains, pulling them half-open to shed some moonlight on the situation. What I saw did almost stop my heart.

Edward was covered in a light sheen of sweat, his lips red and cracked – his eyes were bloodshot as he opened them weakly, his hair dishevelled, almost brown from sweat. The dark evening moonlight shining on him gave him a ghostly, eerie look, as if he were already dead. I cried out and ran to him again, dipping a wet washcloth into the basin on the table and pressing it to his brow, repeating monotonously that he would survive, that he would be alright, more for my own benefit than his. He shivered, moaning my name again, and after settling the cloth on his brow I sat down beside him, trying to find some way to soothe his obvious pain. "Edward, what ails you?" I asked him, pushing the damp hair back from his forehead, gently stroking his burning skin, "Please, tell me, so I can help you."

"Bella..." he murmured again, obviously too weak to speak, and I bit my lip, my heart beginning to pound for fear of how ill he was – I could not know how far the disease had advanced, and news had not yet come of how the sick could be helped, nor of how we could know when they were too ill to be helped. The young, frightened girl inside me was shouting, panicking, so afraid of losing him, but the Duchess in me steeled herself, ignoring the fear, ignoring the pain, ignoring the fact that I would die if he did...no, he would survive, even if I had to force him to keep breathing. I tucked myself up beside him, and proceeded to stroke his hair and sponge his forehead with cold water, determined to stay for as long as was needed to cure him.

Nothing worked and deep night began to darken the room further. I lit a candle – his condition had not improved or worsened, which I supposed was neither a good nor a bad thing. My eyes were beginning to close with tiredness, my body drooping even as I fought to stay awake; Edward was still murmuring fitfully, and I was not sure if he was asleep or awake. Perhaps he was drifting in some kind of limbo – he certainly could not hear my voice anymore, of that I was sure.

Eventually, at a loss for anything else to do, I curled up beside him, wrapping my arms about his neck and pushing my fingers into his hair, trying to coax him into sleep. He sighed, shifting slightly so I was pressed more against him, moaning a little – I dragged my fingers through his hair, stroking his damp locks slowly, and he smiled gently, sighing and sounding a little more content. I hummed under my breath, and when this seemed to make him happier, I began to sing to him. I sang throughout the night, whenever he woke or was restless, or his brow grew too hot. His fever peaked at dawn, when he became so hot and feverish that he was moaning and twisting in his sleep, and I felt as if I were almost hugging hot coals – but I held on, knowing my extra warmth would help his fever break sooner.

His writhing eventually stopped, and I fell into a fitful sleep with him.

In the morning, it was he who woke me, his voice hoarse as he murmured to me, "Bella...Bella?"

"Edward?" I almost leapt up from beside him, turning onto my knees to gaze at him, his eyes beginning to flicker open. I smiled joyfully as I realised how much cooler he was – his hair was now dry, his cheeks almost their normal colour; I reached out to grab the wet cloth that was slumped on the bedside table, and patted him down with it as I murmured to him, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he mumbled at once, opening his eyes fully now, smiling at me, "Much, much better."

"Mmhmm," I replied, turning over to wring out the cloth before applying it to his skin again. "You do look much better," I observed slowly, while he nodded, an expression on his face which could only be described as earnest.

"I am much better," he said at once, "Which is why you must leave now, Bella. I do not want you catching any of this illness." When I only laughed, not moving an inch, he attempted to push me away – but he was still too weak. "Bella," he complained, as I took his hands, holding them still so he was unable to move them, "Bella I am serious – you have to leave."

I cut him off with a swift kiss, happiness making me uncaring, "Since you have regained your chivalry, I believe it is now safe for me to leave and find the physician. And do not try to make me go, Edward," I continued, knowing he was about to fight me – I smiled and stroked his cheek, "For I will not, and you should not waste your healing time arguing with me. Just get better, that is all that matters."

His eyes were sad, "Bella, I do not want you to become ill...I do not want to lose you simply because you were too stubborn and I was too selfish to let you stay here with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Silly man," I told him, "You are not being selfish – you need me, and I am only being stubborn because you are being far too over-protective. Think of yourself for once, Edward," I smiled at him widely, attempting to receive one in return, "You think too much of me for your own good."

"But what about his Grace?" he persisted, "Your husband, Bella." I bit my lip as he started upon the weak link in my moral armour, "They will certainly think it strange that you are not there, helping him – that you are not anywhere, overseeing it all. You cannot stay here forever with me...as much as you would like to stay here, even under these circumstances, it is no time for either of us to lose our heads and become crazed by love. You do not want us to be found out, do you, Bella?" I sighed, knowing he was right but hating that it was so – he wound his fingers through mine and kissed my hand, his lips still too warm.

"No," I muttered reluctantly, and he smiled.

"Good girl. Now," he squeezed my fingers, "Send the physician if you wish, but please, retain appearances: go care for your husband, for the rest of the sick...in fact, please, just keep away from us all. Keep yourself safe, Bella," he said to me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Edward, I cannot just ignore those who need me simply because I am afraid of a little fever."

"For me?" he asked, eyes wide and pitiful – I sighed and shook my head.

"Not even for you."

He groaned a little, "You are far too moral for your own good."

I laughed as I moved to the door, "Who does that remind you of?"

He smiled, "It is a mystery to me."

I sighed as I looked at him, "Are you sure you will be alright without me?"

Edward laughed quietly, shaking his head back at me, "I am never alright without you, but for now I must try to be."

I smiled sadly. "I am glad you did not die," I murmured to him – he smiled.

"I love you too."

Unlike Edward, Henry was no better when I went to see him again – his breath rattled in his chest, and his face was gray and pasty. Mrs Willis sat beside him, her face grim and just as drawn as his, and my heart sunk as I realised that the illness had begun to work on her too. I prayed that it was only a spell of simple flu when I sent her off to bed, but I could not hide the realisation from myself any longer when I called for a maid and found that there were none who were well enough to serve me. This disease might well be fatal for much of my household.

I took Henry's hand and squeezed it, biting my lip when he didn't respond, his grip cold and limp – I had never been any good at medicine, and now I had no idea what I could do. I was torn: who should I leave to lie alone? Henry or Edward? My husband…or the man I loved?

I piled the blankets over Henry again, in an attempt to draw his fever out, and then went in search of a cook – I found only Katherine, the youngest apprentice cook in our household, and I sadly set her to work alone on enough broth to feed all those who were sick. There were two gentlemen still on their feet, and I was too afraid to fetch the physician myself, so I sent them instead and told them that he must sit with Henry until he was well again. When I went to check on Rosalie I found her in Mr McCarty's bed; Rosalie was sleeping, her face as gray and lined as all those who were ill, but Mr McCarty was not. He sat beside her, sponging her face gently – he looked up when I opened the door, and at once he rose to meet me.

"Your Grace! You are well?"

"Indeed I am," I sighed, rubbing my hand across my forehead, "Barely." I glanced over at Rosalie, "How is she?"

He shook his head, "She has not awoken for more than a day now. I am…I am worried…"

"Have you been with her all this time?" I asked him, a little shocked but touched – he nodded grimly.

"I have. Tell me, is there any news on a cure? Or some medicine I could give her? I hate to see her suffer…"

I shook my head sadly, "Not as of yet. I am afraid the whole house has come down with this strange disease – you are one of the few I have found who is not sick." I tilted my head, taking in his worried face, tired eyes, and the way he glanced at Rosalie every few seconds between talking to me; I could not help but smile to myself. "Thank you for looking after her," I said to him, trying to smile properly but feeling too anxious to do so, "It is hard…everyone is so sick…"

"Your husband?" Emmett asked; I nodded stiffly, and he sighed. "I am sorry: you must be so worried about him."

"Yes," I murmured, not thinking of Henry but thinking of Edward instead, lying there without me beside him – I bit my lip, trying to push the thought away, "Yes, it is terrible."

"My friend," Emmett began, and my heart sunk, "Edward…Mr Cullen. Is he alright?"

I nodded, and Emmett visibly brightened, his back straightening out – I had not realised he had been hunching until now, holding the worry for those he loved between his shoulder blades. I found I could empathise, and I smiled, "He is fine…well, better than most. I saw him last night and this morning, and he definitely seemed better – he was tossing and turning all night, but he spoke to me and told me he was feeling better, though I do not know how much of that to believe."

Emmett chuckled gently, "Typical Edward. So chivalrous – he hates to let anyone believe that he is in need of help. Why, even his own wife would have a problem getting him to admit that he was sick and should stay in bed." I laughed too, though I was sure it was for a different reason than Emmett thought.

"Yes, he does seem that way," I said, even though I knew it was completely true; Emmett smiled a little, shaking his head.

"Ah Edward…thank you for taking care of him…Rosalie is commanding all of my time."

I smiled, "You must love her very much."

Something softened in his eyes – he nodded what could only be described as shyly. "You do not miss a thing do you, your Grace?" he said, and I shrugged.

"As a woman in love herself, I know the signs." I could not help but smile to myself, remember all those days back when we were teenagers and I would look round to find Edward gazing at me, that smile I later learnt was my smile on his face – they had confused me no end, those looks. But still, I would have given anything to go back to those days, to see his youthful, carefree face smiling that way at me one more time.

"Still," Emmett sighed, bringing me out of my thoughts, "It saddens me that there is no one to care for Edward."

"There is no woman in his life?" I could not help but ask, curious despite myself to see how Emmett viewed Edward's life, "Such a handsome, available young man must have dozens of girls to choose from."

"Edward never had a problem with women," Emmett replied thoughtfully, "He could find himself a wife very easily if he wanted to, I should think. If I thought it were true I would say he hated them, but I do not think it is that…something happened to him. Something terrible, and that has blighted his life ever since. Not once, throughout all our travels, did any girl spark any interest in him – sure, he was friends with some, but he never loved any of them." I was trying so hard not to smile, finding some odd pleasure in hearing about Edward's life from an observer rather than from him, instead nodding and trying to turn my enjoyment into curiosity.

"He seems happy," I said quietly, wanting to hear what Emmett would say to that – he nodded.

"I am aware. Something has changed for him, I am sure of it – the music he plays now…it has never been so joyful. Though, of course, he refuses to tell me anything; he thinks I have not noticed. He has found himself a woman, I am sure of it."

"Really?" I leant against the doorframe, knowing I should not show so much interest but unable to help myself, "Do you have any idea who she is?"

"She lives here," Emmett answered, "I am sure of that. One of your Grace's friends, I believe."

"Not a maid?"

Emmett shook his head, "Oh no, most definitely not. I have never once seen him near the servant's quarters."

"Perhaps he is just very good at hiding his tracks?" I suggested – it was becoming clear to me that Edward certainly had become expert at this. Though, I was not sure why I was only realising this now: Edward and I had been hiding our entire lives.

Emmett shook his head again, "I see him sometimes, walking around with rouge on his jaw," I blushed furiously at that, cursing my love of lip-paint; Emmett grinned, "If you do not mind me commenting on such a delicate subject, only high-brow ladies wear rouge. Though I do have to congratulate him; he is missing from his room most nights."

"He underestimates your powers of deduction," I laughed, and Emmett smiled back at me.

"I believe he does, your Grace, yes."

"Well, I shall remember not to do that myself," I said, "You have done such a wonderful job at looking after Rose – you are feeling alright yourself?"

"Yes," he said quickly – I raised a brow.

"Are you sure? You must not exert yourself, Mr McCarty-"

"With all due respect, your Grace," he cut me off, holding his hand up, palm out to stop my words, "I can take care of myself."

I wondered whether I should act offended, play my part as a Duchess – but he was so kind a man I knew that I could not. He was such a good friend to Edward, and I found myself wishing he knew about our relationship, as I suspected he could give me some very interesting insights. Sighing inwardly, lamenting for what could have been the millionth time the situation I had worked myself into, I bowed my head. "I apologise, Mr McCarty," I said, "I do hope I have not offended you – as the lady of the house, I am quite used to looking after everybody."

"That explains why you are taking such good care of Edward," Emmett observed, and I had to hold back a smile.

"Yes. Of course that is the reason."

Rosalie moaned then, her eyes flicking from side to side under her lids – I could see that Emmett was distracted at once, turning back to her, his expression turning anxious. "Your Grace," he murmured, but I stopped him.

"I will go – I have tarried too long here already. Good evening, Mr McCarty," he bowed as I declined my head, then swept out the door again, though through lack of sleep I was beginning to find it hard to walk at my usual striding pace, to keep my head held high while inside all I wished to do was to curl up with Edward and fall asleep beside him.

The next evening I still sat alone at the dinner table – Henry, and Rosalie and Edward, the only proper resident guests with us since it was winter, were still lying sick in their beds, as were most of the maids, all but one of the cooks, and most of the footmen. All the other visitors had gone, and the one remaining cook had rustled up a salad out of our depleting food stocks. I'd had to send her to bed as well because I could see signs of the sickness in her. I tossed my food about my plate, too worried about the various members of my small but beloved family to eat. Each bite I took made my stomach turn horribly, and after a few tries I pushed it away and sighed, resting my head on the table and closing my eyes, willing the nausea and the headache to go away. I simply refused to be sick and that was the end of it. "Oh dear," I murmured, wanting to fall asleep but knowing I could not, "Oh god…"

"Bella?" came a voice from behind me; my head snapped up, my chair making a loud noise as I jumped a few feet backwards, turning around and leaning over the gilded seat back.

"Edward!"

He smiled, leaning against the door frame in his grey coat – his face was open and bright, the dark circles and signs of weariness on his face totally gone now. I smiled, pushing my chair away, totally forgetting my own tiredness as I ran to him, flinging myself into his arms, "You are better!"

"Indeed I am," Edward chuckled, his voice warm in my ear, arms firm and strong around me, "Completely cured, the doctor says…I suppose I have you to thank for that." He pulled back, running his fingers across my jaw, "You took such good care of me."

I blushed a little, "It was nothing."

"I have to thank you, all the same," he smiled, "I hope you did not waste too much of your time on me, and that no one noticed." He held my cheeks in his hands, searching my eyes, as if he could find out anything that was wrong with me through them, You are not feeling ill, are you?"

I shook my head, "No, not at all."

"Are you sure? You are not lying to me?"

I laughed gently, "Yes, Edward, I am sure – I feel a little sick in my stomach, and my head aches, but other than that…I personally think it is just tiredness, and nothing else." I yawned, resting my head against his chest and closing my eyes, "I have not slept in so long…"

He kissed the top of my head, "Good." We stood there together for a while longer, hugging each other tightly – the fact that he was well again was no small comfort to me. The loneliness I had been feeling over these past few days had been far too similar to how I had felt those four long years without him there beside him; the terrible resemblance of these days to those had been crippling. "Well," he murmured gently, "I am here now…and I think it is time for you to go to bed."

"That sounds wonderful," I sighed, leaning back to smile at him, finding great comfort in how healthy he looked. I almost fell asleep against him on the walk to my bedroom, and he pulled me up into his arms and carried me the rest of the way when he saw how close to unconsciousness I was. However, when he set me down on my bed he began to undress me, unlacing the back of my corset – he probably thought he was being helpful, but his touch set me alight as it always did, and my nerves were crackling. I could not have slept then if I wanted to; I tried to ignore what my body was saying, smiling at him as he pulled my nightgown over my head, kissing me gently when he'd finished.

"Come," he murmured, kicking off his boots and coat and jumping onto the bed beside me, pulling me into his arms, "Time to sleep."

But I found I could not sleep, however hard I tried. Edward did not either, but I suspected he was deliberately staying awake so he could keep a watchful eye on me, overprotective as he always was. In fact, lying there, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company, I began to worry again. I could see Rosalie and Henry, and everyone else, lying in my mind's eye, with their sick, pale faces and their low moans – what if something happened to them? Now Edward was alright, I began to realise just how much everyone else meant to me too, and what it might do to me if they died. Ice began to grow in the pit of my stomach, my throat tightening – Edward felt it.

"Love?" he opened his eyes, gazing at me, "What is wrong?"

"What if Henry dies?" I asked him fretfully, sitting up out of his arms and gazing down at him, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candles, "What if Rosalie dies, Edward? What will I do then? They are no better…no one is any better! What do I do? I don't-"

"Shhh."

Edward had reached up, pressed his fingers against my mouth – they were warm, and they made my lips tingle. "Hush, my love," he murmured, "Now is no time for thoughts like that. Everything will be alright," he sat up, pulled me against him, drew his fingers through my hair in a way he knew would make me shiver. "I promise you that," he whispered against my lips, then he kissed me gently. "Now, stop worrying and get some sleep."

"I could not sleep," I murmured in reply, "I am too anxious."

"Do you want me to help you forget?" Edward whispered in my ear; I sighed in pleasure despite myself as he dropped his head to kiss my shoulder, his face buried in my hair. My arms twined themselves about his neck, my body melting into his.

"Yes," I moaned, "I want to forget." He was so good at rendering me senseless…

Sleep came easier when I was wrapped up, sated and happy and warm in his arms, and before I knew it the morning had come. I sat up, stretching, glancing down at Edward – he was still asleep, his hair tousled and his mouth in a small pout as he slept. Wanting to wake him up, I began to lean down, intending to kiss him awake; but then my stomach lurched, and I knew I was going to be sick.

Edward, displaying his amazing prowess for detecting my absence, was there in a second as I leaned over the washbasin – he stroked my hair gently as I vomited, coughing and spluttering, feeling as if my abdomen was attempting to twist itself into knots. When I'd finished he swept me into his arms and carried me back to the bed, propping me up against the pillows and sitting beside me, looking very concerned. "Bella," he began, but I stopped him.

"Edward, I am fine. I feel much better now – I must have eaten some bad meat. That is all it is, you know there are no cooks here at the moment," I smiled, trying to soothe him, "Even I should have realised eating meat would not be the best of ideas."

"Are you sure, Bella?" he asked me, I nodded quickly.

"It is just my stomach," I rubbed it gently, trying to coax the tightness away, "That is all."

Edward did not seem convinced, but luckily he dropped it. We spent the day in bed together, since there was no one to stop us, and in the evening he allowed me to get up to go check on Henry. He was no better – his curtains were drawn and he was still shivering under the bedclothes, refusing water and murmuring deliriously. The physician looked grave, murmuring that there was little chance of him recovering, and I sighed. Now that he could, I found I did not want Henry to die.

"Henry?" I sat down beside him, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it, "Henry, my dear? Please, will you not get better for me?"

"Isabella?" he murmured under his breath – I tried to smile.

"Yes, it is me, Henry."

He opened his eyes – they were bloodshot, his pupils dilated, and he looked wide-eyed and crazed; I gasped a little, "Oh, Henry…"

"Isabella, get away from here," Henry rasped, gripping my hand tight, "Take someone with you…go to London for a while, keep yourself safe." Somehow I registered the similarities between his and Edward's sentiments, even in this dire situation.

I shook my head, "You're delirious, Henry, you don't mean that…"

"My dear," he coughed, "I am thinking perfectly clearly." He drew me close, so I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks, "Leave this place. Get away from here." When still I shook my head, he sighed, "Go, Isabella! Get out of here!"

For some reason, I was crying, "I cannot leave you!"

"Get out of here, Isabella, or so help me…" his shouts descended into coughs again, and the physician moved forward.

"Please, your Grace, do as he says – you are only making him worse by aggravating him, and he wishes to keep you safe." I pulled my arm out of his grip, standing up and gazing down at my husband, wishing I did not feel so guilty about obeying his command.

"Alright, Henry," I murmured, "I will go. But you must swear to me that you will get well, do you hear me?" He sighed breathily, and I stepped back, "Do you swear it?"

"I…I do."

"Fine," I lifted up my skirts and swept out without another word, too hurt and sad to stay there any longer.

The house was eerily silent compared to the outside world as I opened the front door, the sound of birdsong and the smell of sunshine at once streaming in, the thick beam of light warming me somewhat. I sighed, closing my eyes and taking in the silence, letting it wrap around me – when I opened them again, Edward was at my side, smiling down at me. He had my trunk in his arms, adorned with a small bag that held his luggage; he tilted his head towards the waiting carriage. "Shall we go?" he asked me, and I nodded.

"Yes."

I was leaving this place, for the first time in a year, with the man that I loved. I was going to see my sister, and have two months alone with her and Edward – it was like returning to my past in Derbyshire, and I was barely able to believe it was happening. I followed Edward, rubbing my still-uneasy abdomen as I did, watching as he threw the luggage into the cab and then turned around to smile at me. "After you, your Grace," he said, sweeping into a formal bow while his eyes twinkled at me – I rolled my eyes but took his hand, letting him help me into the coach before pulling him in after me.

He laughed as he sat down beside me, his smile bright in the sun and his hair shining; I gazed at him in that second, and marvelled at his beauty. Then the moment passed and we were off, the carriage beginning to rock as the horses picked up speed; Edward settled down, but I turned to watch the house fade into the distance, still feeling a little on edge. After a minute or so, I felt Edward's arms around me, pulling me back to sit beside him.

"Everyone will be alright, Bells," Edward murmured, wrapping an arm around my waist and smiling encouragingly at me – I gazed up at him, his eyes warm and his face smiling and healthy, and could not help but feel better. He, at least, was alright. That was all that really and truly mattered, in the end.

"Yes," I answered, lifting my head to kiss him gently before resting my head on his shoulder, gazing out of the window and trying to breath out my troubles, "I know they will."

* * *

**The next chapter should be out...well, I'll try to get there before the end of the holidays in two weeks :) **

**ATO out xxx**


	32. Sunshine

**Yes, I know it's been a while. No, I'm not dead, nor have I been abducted by aliens/turned into a vampire/gotten lost in a maze and spent the last few months trying to get out. In fact I've just been living, except now I have a new chapter for you all :)**

**Hopefully going to be getting back into this story, if I can find the time - I'm sick of not publishing, so now I'm kicking my own butt and getting into gear again. Hope those of you who used to read get back on board and those of you who are new enjoy :)**

**Major lusms, apologies, I will be better.**

**DISCLAIMER - nil points to me for these characters: I'm just the overlord that makes them dance for me.**

**Read on, my brave warriors!**

* * *

We screeched to a sudden stop in front of Alice's home a day or so later after a pleasant and uneventful journey through gentle and quiet English countryside – I had found the last days thoroughly enjoyable, and judging from the bright smile on Edward's face, so had he. We had stopped in rest houses along the way, and I found it thoroughly enjoyable to get away from the gossiping social circle of Hertfordshire; no one knew who I was there. Pretending to be Edward's wife was the most fun I had had in years – I could hold hands with him, return his fond smiles, be in love with him and not care who saw. The prospect of two months like this, and spending an extended amount of time with my sister…I was heady with anticipation, bouncing in my seat while Edward chuckled, "Are you excited?"

I smiled widely at him, "Like you will never know."

He returned my smile and leaned forward, pulling off my hat and throwing it to the floor of the carriage, capturing my lips with his. I kissed him back for a moment, always dizzy in the feeling of him so close to me, then he chuckled throatily again, drifting his kisses across to my jaw. "You know," he murmured, lifting his head for a second, his green eyes sparkling, "I think I may. I think I am going to enjoy these next few weeks immensely."

"Show off," I wheezed back, still catching my breath, pushing him off me and picking up my hat, dusting it off. "Edward, you should not treat my clothes this way; you will harm them."

"Please," he crossed his legs and leaned back, his grin positively rakish, "You would not care. You never cared about clothing, not in the way Alice did."

He knew me too well; I smiled, loving how freely we were able to talk about the past, open with each other as we had not been in years. "True," I agreed happily, shoving it back in place on top of my hair without much care for it; I looked forward to being able to change into one of my old dresses that Alice had kept for me and taking down my hair as I never did in polite company. With Alice, of course, it did not matter.

Edward opened the door and stepped down, holding out his hand to assist me; I rolled my eyes at him and ignored it, jumping down the tiny steps to the street of my own accord. He did not look surprised and I took his arm, sending him a cheerful smile as we made our way to Alice's door. I knocked, and there was a tell-tale sound of pounding feet as there was a cry of, "I will get it!"

My niece, Olivia, opened the door. "Auntie Bella!" she cried, at once jumping into my arms – I swung her up to sit her on my hip, smiling at her.

"Good afternoon, Olivia," I said, tugging on her curls, much longer now than they had been when I last saw her, "You have grown again."

She laughed, her voice light and tinkling, just like her mother's. "You always say that, Auntie Bella," she replied, pulling my hair just as I had pulled hers – I raised my brows at her, noting the change in her tone and her reply. I was right: she had grown, much faster than I had anticipated she would. Seeing her again, smiling in her childish innocence, her eyes bright with intelligence and with her small form in my arms, made me suddenly long for a child of my own like I never had before.

"That is because it is always true," I told her; she shook her head at me before squirming in my arms, obviously wanting to be put down. I set her on the floor, trying to shake off my sudden maternal urges which told me to pick her up again and never let her go. "Olivia," I stepped sideways to reveal Edward, "May I introduce my companion, Mr Edward Masen." We had decided last night – albeit long-windedly since he kept distracting me – that using his real name for the both of us if we met anyone would be the safest thing. If they happened to know Henry and happened to mention us to him, there was a smaller chance of us being found out. Then again, if someone who knew Henry saw us together there was not much hope of that, but we didn't want our used names bandying about London.

"Hello," Olivia curtseyed politely at once, a small twinkle in her eye – Edward smiled, bowing back to her.

"It is nice to see you again, Miss Olivia."

Olivia blushed a little, looking away, seeming embarrassed which was quite unlike her, as Alice's daughter – I glanced at Edward, who was smirking. "Shall I get Mama?" she asked, stepping back, obviously looking for a route of escape – I could hear footsteps jumping down the stairs, and shook my head.

"I think she is already coming, Olivia," I said; Olivia nodded, then scarpered suddenly, her face still a bright shade of pink. I elbowed Edward hard in the ribs, and he chuckled.

"What did I do?"

"She is five!" I hissed at him, "Please do not make her fall in love with you just yet."

Edward made an indignant noise, "I am not trying to! I was simply saying hello!"

"Of course you are not," I replied sarcastically, raising my brows at him; he cocked his brows right back, both of us glaring at each other, at an impasse until Alice appeared at the bottom of the stairs, distracting us.

"Bella!" Alice ran straight to me, pulling me into a hug, "How good to see you! Did Olivia open the door? I just saw her run into her room."

"Yes," I answered, looking pointedly at Edward, "She did, but for some reason when he said hello she ran away."

Alice laughed, the sound warm and bright, "Oh, that. She has not stopped talking about you since you came to see us a few months ago, Edward. I am afraid she is quite infatuated with you." Edward seemed to deflate a little as he sighed, obviously exasperated, whilst I rolled my eyes.

"I apologise on behalf of him," I smirked at Edward, "He really does not know how to control himself." I tried to elbow him again, but he was too quick for me, reaching out and gripping me round the waist, pinning my arm to his side.

"And you have obviously become far too comfortable in teasing me," he said to me, "Please remember that I have ways of punishing you."

"I am quite sure," Alice interrupted us, smiling almost grimly, "That I do not want to be present for the rest of this conversation. So, take your bags upstairs and carry on your conversation there, please." She smiled angelically, and I laughed, pulling away from Edward and crossing my arms.

"To think I missed you, Alice."

Alice laughed, "You never learn."

Later, after I switched my fine clothing for something more suitable and infinitely more comfortable, leaving my trunk unopened beneath the bed, I made my way downstairs to see Alice, who was preparing dinner. Edward and Jasper were talking in the small, airy reception room opposite from my bedroom; I could hear them faintly as I descended the stairs, and I smiled, glad that they had renewed their friendship too. It seemed this visit had been highly called for.

My foot, wildly placed, as usual, caught on the doorframe, and I tumbled into the kitchen to find Alice beating dough. She turned to laugh, "You have not changed at all, have you?"

I simply glared at her, picking myself up off the floor, immensely enjoying the experience. Usually I was either reprimanded when I fell – if I ever fell at all – or I was immediately dragged to my feet and fussed over until I felt as if I would rather have injured myself and stayed down.

I had forgotten the joy of normality.

"What are you making?" I asked, tying on a patched red apron and going to stand beside Alice, watching her pound the thick and sticky mess.

"A pie, of course," she replied without looking up, "Can't you tell?"

"Not really." I observed her for a second longer before nudging her hands away, replacing them with my own, "Alice, let me do it." When I was younger, Cook – it was the only name we knew her by – spent a day teaching me the infinite rules and ways of cooking a pie such as Alice wanted. That knowledge had never left me, despite the fact I hadn't been in a kitchen in nearly four years, much less spent that time making pies.

I folded it expertly, kneading it with my knuckles and flouring it until it became a soft dough, white powder blossoming out of it in clouds every time I pressed it inwards. It flew and settled on my face and hair, my hands turning half white with specks of dust. When I was finished I wiped them on my apron, staining it white as well, then turned to Alice. "Do you have a rolling pin, Al?"

She threw one across the room, and I ducked to avoid it; the pin narrowly missed me, meeting the floor with a dull thud. "Alice!"

"Sorry!"

I shook my head, picking up the rolling pin and flattening out the dough whilst Alice peeled large, green, cooking apples. "I suppose you do not get to do much cookery in Hertfordshire," she commented; I nodded.

"None at all."

We worked in silence for a while – I was becoming whiter by the minute – then Alice asked, "How long are you staying?"

I smiled at that, "Two months. Henry wanted me away from the house, and Edward happens to be the only male well enough to escort me. Granted, Henry is half delirious, but he is still lucky Henry trusts him so – he would not let other men stay with me for two minutes, much less two months."

"Mmm," she agreed, "Your husband must like Edward immensely."

"It has to be that way," I replied, "Edward needs that trust, so we are able to see each other."

She laughed, "Considering what you and Edward get up to when you are together, I am hardly surprised."

I laughed with her, knowing she meant it in the good and the bad sense of the word, and we talked pleasantly for a while; Edward and Jasper appeared again as we were rolling the pastry over the top of the pie dish. Jasper locked his arms around Alice's waist and balanced his chin on her head – Edward would always put his on my shoulder, but Alice was small, so her shoulder was too far below Jasper. "How is the pie coming, my love?"

She giggled girlishly, shifting the finished pastry into her hands as she turned to face him, saying something I could not quite catch before handing it to him with a smile. He raised a brow and, using a free arm, swept them both out of the room, whether to bake it – their stove was elsewhere - or simply to be alone together, I did not know.

"That apron looks breathtaking on you," Edward murmured, his arms suddenly winding around me, "I like it, especially with the flour. You remind me of how you looked that time when you baked pies with Cook." He pressed his warm lips against my neck, and I sighed a little. "Do you remember? I could not stop staring, and you went all red…"

I nudged him with my elbow, "Edward. Need I remind you? That was the day I threw flour all over you because you were annoying me by staring at me."

"It was a compliment, my love. Love..." he reflected, his lopsided smile visible to me from the corner of my eye, "I like being able to call you that outside of your bedroom."

I did not reply, just leant against his chest and closed my eyes, perfectly content. I had not felt such peace and tranquillity in a long time. "This is nice," I sighed, "Not having to hide. To finally be still."

"I know," Edward murmured back, his arms tightening, pressing a soft kiss to the exposed skin of my neck, "It is...wonderful."

I hummed slightly in response, quite content at that moment to stay there forever. This was why I could not give Edward up. This was why I was risking everything to be with him now. I could never feel this way with anyone else, and I could not bring myself to give it up. No one could condemn themselves to a life of sorrow – a stronger woman than myself, perhaps, but absolutely not me. I was distracted from my thoughts by the soft pressure of Edward's lips on my skin again, making me flush slightly, shivering a little as he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling at my hairline, "Come upstairs with me, my love."

"Edward," I reprimanded him, even as my breath hitched, his kisses drifting along my jaw, "We have hardly been here one day."

"So," he asked, pressing me firmer against him with one quick adjustment of his arms, "Alice and Jasper would not mind if we were late for dinner just this once. We could tell them we were...resting."

"As if they would believe that." But already I could feel my willpower seeping away under his touch, his hands retreating to my hips, slowly rubbing circles on my sides, gradually pulling me backwards, one step at a time. "Edward..."

"Please," he murmured, "I want you, Bella..."

"Edward, please, stop," I moaned, "I cannot endure this."

"Then do not," he whispered, his voice hot in my ear, the heat spreading all the way through me to the pit of my stomach, the feel of his body like a burning hot iron against my back, "Come upstairs with me, love; give in." Then, with that, using my hips as leverage, he spun me round, pulling me into him, our lips colliding with such force that it knocked me off my feet. Edward, undeterred, swung me up into his arms, twisting in the same movement, walking toward the door – before I knew it, we were tumbling through the door of our bedroom, the curtains already drawn and the bed neatly made up. Edward and I had to share a room, since Alice's house was not that big, but I had not complained.

We were late for dinner that night.

* * *

"Good morning, oh dear sister of mine!" Alice carolled as she swept into the room the next morning, waking Edward and I with one swipe of the curtains, sending them rattling down their copper rails so the sunlight came streaming in – I stiffened in Edward's arms, so unused to any interruptions this early in the morning that at once her arrival frightened me. My heart almost stopped as, in my still-sleepy state, I imagined Henry walking in and finally discovering us...but, as my vision cleared and I found my smiling younger sister standing at the end of the bed, my fears abated and I rolled my eyes, falling back amongst the cushions and settling down again.

I heard Edward chuckle as he sat up – he at least, was able to, an absence of bedsheets covering his chest not causing him trouble like it would me. I closed my eyes again and shuffled back under the bedclothes as he said to Alice, "Goodness, Alice, walking in without any warning: you have no idea what Bella and I could be doing. It could be harmful to your health."

"Do not make me laugh," Alice scoffed, "I know you both too well – once the clock strikes twelve neither of you are ever awake, no matter where you are. And neither of you are ever awake this early."

"For good reason," I mumbled grumpily – Edward chuckled.

"Exactly." I felt Edward wrap his arm around my waist again as he lay down, pulling me back against his chest, "Wake us in a few hours when it is not grey outside, Alice."

I could feel her narrowed gaze even through my closed eyelids, but her response surprised me. "Fine," she said; the curtain hooks scraped across the metal pole as she drew the curtain back again, immersing us all in darkness, "Since it is your first day here and you seem so determined to be such terrible guests, I will let you sleep. But if you are both not down by the time I call for lunch," her voice was threatening, "I will have my vengeance, no matter what you are doing and how inappropriately clad you are."

She left then, the door swinging to, and Edward chuckled – I opened an eye to find him smiling at me. "I do not think I could sleep now," he laughed, turning over a little to glance at the closed door, "I am too frightened of her."

"It is all hot air," I giggled, shutting my eyes again, "She never means what she says. You know Alice – she enjoys her theatrics."

"Well, if you are so sure," Edward rolled me over so I was lying on my back, settling himself on top of me and resting on his elbows – his hair hung over my face and tickled my cheeks, and I opened my eyes to find him chuckling down at me, "Then we can get on with business."

He kissed me gently, his lips warm against my own, and I smiled, happy as ever to have him there – I rested my palms on his cheeks and just held him, enjoying the feeling of total contentment.

"It is wonderful, though, is it not?" he said, "Lying together in the morning sunshine, for all the world to see..." He raised a brow at me as I laughed gently, "Figuratively, of course, but you know what I mean."

"Yes," I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck, "It is wonderful." He kissed the top of my head, and we settled down again – I let my mind drift as it had not in years, free of any worries or cares. I had forgotten how good it was not to have to hide. Inadvertently, however, my mind went back to those I had left behind in Hertfordshire, and I couldn't help but voice my thoughts after five minutes of silence. "I wonder how everyone back in Hertfordshire is?" I mused, more to myself than to him, "What if their sickness has got worse?" I turned to him, "Edward, what if-"

"Bella," Edward interrupted me, his mouth turned down at the corners in what I knew was irritation – he pulled away and sat up, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighing, "Could we please, for once, not talk about this?"

"Not talk about what?" I asked, bemused as I gazed up at him – he did not look down.

"Your damn husband!" he cried, pulling his hand away and pounding the mattress with his fist, so hard that my body bounced a little, "Your damn life! I listen to it, I live it, all day long and now we have these two months alone together you still cannot let it go! It drives me mad, Bella, and I-" He stopped shouting abruptly and grit his teeth, locking his jaw and closing his eyes tight – I knew he was attempting to keep back stronger words that would hurt my feelings. I sighed, biting my lip, knowing I could not be angry about what he was saying. He had a point: I had always been the selfish one, and now it was quite obvious he felt he deserved some time to be selfish, even though I was sure he would not phrase his emotions as such. After a minute of silence, Edward sighed, rubbing his hand across his face and running it through his hair, "Bella, I am sorry, I know I am being unreasonable…"

I could do nothing to fix anything that was wrong; all I could do was smile and nod gently. "Alright," I murmured, determined to at least abide by his wishes while I could, "You are right, Edward – this time is for us…for you. You have been so good to me, and the least I can do is return the favour."

Edward's smile returned slowly, abashedly – he ran his hand through his hair again, a sign that he was nervous now. "Sorry," he said again, "I am aware I am being a complete boar about all this…"

"No," I shook my head, propping my body up on my elbows and smiling at him, "You are not. Though," I kissed him gently, "You needn't have shouted."

"I am sorry," he murmured, "You know I do not mean to upset you."

"You could never upset me," I laughed, "You are far too sweet for that."

"That does not mean I do not do a fair job at trying to," Edward mumbled, and I shook my head at him.

"If that was your attempt to upset me, then I do not think I have anything to fear."

He smiled, kissed me once more, then sighed. "Come on," he said, sitting up and pulling me with him, "Time for us to emerge, I think. Besides, Alice and I have much to show you – have you ever been to London before?"

"Not when I have such willing guides, no." I smiled and stood as he did, walking to my clothes trunk and swinging it open, plucking out the first comfortable dress I could find. Edward dressed quicker than me, and moved over to help me into my various layers, a task he was very well practised in by then.

"Come," he said when we had finished, his face boyish with excitement, "Let us go."

Alice, Jasper, Edward and Olivia all but dragged me out the door, Alice and Olivia linking arms with me as they walked me to the market whilst Jasper and Edward moved behind. I stared in wonder at all the movement, carriage rumbling down the streets left and right whilst women selling flowers shouted on each side of the road and small children in varying stages of dishevelment ran here and there shouting amongst the carriage wheels, obviously experts in weaving through without injury. Edward stopped and bought me a small bunch of forget-me-nots from a flower-seller, who smiled toothily and tipped her ragged hat as he paid well above the normal price. I rolled my eyes at him as he tucked it into my hat. "You are going to bankrupt yourself if you keep doing that," I told him; he shrugged, taking my hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow – Alice, Jasper and Olivia were up ahead, waiting to cross the road.

"They need it more than me," he said, wise as ever, before leaning down to kiss my cheek while I blushed.

"Hurry up, you two!" Alice called then, "We have other things to be getting on with today!"

When we got the market, Alice, Olivia and I split from the men, who went to have a drink in a local pub where Jasper's lawyer friends spent their time, and headed inside. Alice pressed basket onto my arm before directing me to the fruits and vegetables, where I spent an hour wandering alone, looking in delight at the range of greens and oranges, and reds and yellows, staring in wonder at all the new foods I had tasted, but never seen uncooked before. And in such quantity! Alice had given me a list and I happily hunted down everything she asked for, and when I wandered into the baking quarter, there was nothing in this world that could have stopped me from buying an assortment of breads, cakes and pastries, which were much enjoyed at our table that night and for the rest of the week. Edward would laugh into my ear that I seemed to have no sense of overbuying, whilst I would stick my tongue out and declare that no one in that house would ever go hungry for cake again, not while I was around. That earned a silvery laugh from my niece and a kiss on the cheek from Edward.

Whilst exiting the market, I came across Edward standing at the entrance waiting for me – he smiled widely when he saw me and moved straight over, taking the heavily-packed basket without hesitating. I sighed, but did not complain. I knew from experience that nothing would stop Edward from being as chivalrous as possible, particularly when it came to me. "Hello, love," he smiled; I grinned happily.

"Hello. How was your time with Jasper's friends?"

"Enjoyable enough. Though I would much rather be with you." I smiled wider and hooked my arm through his as we walked down the street, him in his grey coat and hat and me in my rich blue cloak – he smiled fondly down at me, and in that moment I suddenly knew again exactly how it would feel to be married to him, and I loved it.

Later, when our baskets had been unpacked and we had all spent two hours laughing and talking in the living room, our tired feet propped up on footstools, Edward came up to me whilst I prepared for dinner in our room, putting his arms around my waist and kissing the back of my neck gently. "I have something for you," he murmured in my ear; I turned in his arms, smiling.

"What is it?"

As if by magic, he produced a flat black box from inside his coat, holding it up between us with one hand whilst the other stayed at my waist. I gave him a look as I took it, sliding my fingers into the catch, running the tips over the smooth velvet covering before snapping it open. Inside lay a simple silver chain, sparkling against navy blue satin, whilst nestled at the end was an oval emerald, rimmed with clear stones that shone in the light. I took one look and loved it at once – Edward had my taste down to a tee. Simple, understated, yet dazzling. "Oh, Edward," I murmured, eyes wide, "Oh, it is beautiful."

"Do you like it?" he asked me, earnestly – I glanced up and smiled widely.

"I do! But…oh, Edward, you needn't have bought me this!"

He stepped back, taking the box out of my hands and lifting the necklace in his fingers, undoing the clasp so he could place it round my neck. "Nonsense," he said, "I wanted to. I know it does not hold a candle to the jewellery your duke gives you, but," he stepped back as the jewel fell against my throat, "I thought it would suit you."

"It is wonderful, Edward," I gushed at once, going to the dressing table and admiring the way the necklace sat against my skin, meeting perfectly with my dark hair and pale complexion, "I love it. It is better than anything anyone has ever bought me. Apart from this." I turned and held out my hand, showing him his ring which always sat there, and he smiled, moving in to wrap his arms around my waist.

"I am glad. I hoped you would like it. I wanted you to have something more you could wear and think of me when you did. And it is as beautiful as you."

"I always think of you," I told him, tapping my fingers against his chest and feeling so happy that my heart might burst, "But thank you for this too."

"I love you," he murmured, leaning down – I smiled as he made to kiss me.

"I love you too."

* * *

**2 months later**

I stood in front of the mirror, examining myself from all angles, turning from side to side, raking my eyes across my body. Anxiously looking for a change, or a sign; something that would tell me my newly worst fear had come true. I was sure I could not be imaging the change in my body – something was different.

I pressed my hands to my stomach, gently probing it through the silken folds of my dress, and suddenly it felt as if ice water had been poured through my veins.

There was a slight roundness in my abdomen – minute, and unnoticeable, but still...it was there.

"Oh god," I murmured, putting a hand out to grip the back of a chair, my knees threatening to fold, "Oh, god."

A child. _His_ child.

"Alice!"

Alice appeared in the living room doorway as I flew down the stairs, frowning – she could tell something was wrong by the panic in my voice. "Bella?" she asked, as I ran to her, "Bella, what's wrong?"

"Is Edward here?"

She looked surprised, "No, he is outside with the carriage. Do you want me to fetch him?" My arm shot out as she stepped towards the open front door, my head shaking manically.

"No. Alice…" I sighed, my throat tightening with fear, "Oh, Alice…"

"Bella, can this not wait-"

"Child. Alice…I am…" I pressed my hands to my stomach, unable to say the words – Alice's face dropped into an expression of shock, going silent, and I pushed back tears. "Alice," I took her hands, frantically whispering in hushed tones, "Alice, you have to help me!"

The horses nickered outside, and Edward called jovially: "Bella! We must leave!" I could hear Jasper loading the trunks onto the top of the carriage, making a seemingly ominous thumping sound.

Alice's eyes were wide, her mouth stretched into an o – I squeezed her fingers, "Please, Alice, I do not know what to do! I don't have much time!"

"Bella," she stuttered, "I…you must tell him," she finally said after a second's hesitation, "He must know. It is his, after all?" I nodded at once, sure, and she nodded too. "Then tell him."

"Bella!"

"Go," she hissed, letting go my hands and pushing me towards the open door, "I'll come, I promise. In a few weeks." She caught my terrified squeak, "Bella, you will be fine, I swear to you – tell Edward and we will figure it out when I come. Now, go!"

And with that she pushed me out of the house, to where Edward was waiting – he took my hand, his smile unbearably sunny, unaware of our terrible predicament. "Ready to go?" he asked, kissing the skin of my knuckles. I nodded, forcing a smile unable to speak, and I heard Alice call goodbye as he helped me into the carriage; I looked at her, red-hot panic fluttering in my abdomen.

We exchanged one last, frightened look, then she turned to Jasper, and I turned to Edward, and the horses neighed, tossing their heads as the coachman flicked the reins. Then we were off, Alice and Jasper drifting away as the rows of houses rolled past, the carriage jolting me uncomfortably in my newly tight corset. I was going to miss being at ease with my clothing.

Edward wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him under the safe, translucent light of the curtains barring the carriage windows, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, slowly drifting them down to my jaw; I closed my eyes, pained.

"You will miss this?" he asked, misinterpreting my closed eyes and stiff demeanour.

My gaze was heavy as I looked at him – I tried not to betray the infinite sorrow I felt for both of us as I smiled half-heartedly, bending down and picking up my hat, shrugging off his arm. I placed it gently on top of my hair, fixing it steady, and then locked his confused eyes with mine.

"I will miss it all."

I turned away, shifting to the edge of the seat, wrapping my arms around myself and directing my eyes away from him; I could feel his gaze boring into my back, but I did not look round. I could not look round. There was nothing he could say to make this better, nothing I could do to save us now.

Everything was unravelling at the seams, just like before, I was not sure if I could survive it this time.

* * *

**Not that many of you didn't call that before, but anyway. No, this isn't turning into random pregnant story - in that time contraceptive was a no so it was almost guaranteed this was going to happen eventually. Bedward were definitely not playing it safe :P. And children were a big deal at the time, so don't judge me for moving it in this direction :P**

**Review? :D**

**Much love, ATO xx**


	33. Don't Walk Away From Me

**Yes, I know it's been ages. No excuses, really. Just hope you all enjoy what I've got for you here!**

**DISCLAIMER - You all know the score. Yada yada yada, Edward will only be mine if I kidnap him and even then I would be liable to sueing. Soooo. :S**

**Read on, my brave warriors!**

* * *

**Previously: **

_Edward wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him under the safe, translucent light of the curtains barring the carriage windows, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, slowly drifting them down to my jaw; I closed my eyes, pained._

_ "You will miss this?" he asked, misinterpreting my closed eyes and stiff demeanour._

_My gaze was heavy as I looked at him – I tried not to betray the infinite sorrow I felt for both of us as I smiled half-heartedly, bending down and picking up my hat, shrugging off his arm. I placed it gently on top of my hair, fixing it steady, and then locked his confused eyes with mine._

_"I will miss it all."_

_I turned away, shifting to the edge of the seat, wrapping my arms around myself and directing my eyes away from him; I could feel his gaze boring into my back, but I did not look round. I could not look round. There was nothing he could say to make this better, nothing I could do to save us now._

_Everything was unravelling at the seams, just like before, I was not sure if I could survive it this time. _

I fidgeted all the way home, alternating between putting as much distance between Edward and I as possible and curling up as close to him as I could, trying hard not to cry nor press my fingers against my curving abdomen. Of course, I did not blame either of them – the love I felt for the baby growing inside me was almost too much to bear, especially because I did not know for sure if Edward would accept him or her, or if it would even be safe enough to keep it. I had already decided within the first five minutes that, if I must, I would give my child to Edward's parents to look after, and visit whenever I could, whatever Edward's decision was.

The thought that Edward might leave me because of all this was one that was literally unthinkable.

He would not. He could not. I knew it was his, without a shadow of a doubt – I knew what it took to create a child, and Henry and I had not been intimate in that way for at least four months. I had spent a lot of time over the past four years checking my body for signs, learning everything I could about pregnancy signs so that I would be prepared if it should happen, and I knew that my size meant I was at most two months along. Once I thought about it, I could pinpoint the week in which it happened: the week before everyone got sick. Really, I should have guessed when I started throwing up in the mornings…it was the only thing that had changed.

Whether Edward would believe me was a different story. He had always been very trusting of me, but this was an issue that could have serious consequences if I was wrong. I was not wrong, but Edward might not believe me easily.

The thought of losing him led me to accept his offer of intimacy on our second night in an inn, when before I had turned over and feigned sleep, too afraid and too sad to let him in. He was confused, and anxious, my mood swinging so quickly from one extreme to another, but if he questioned me I was not willing to answer. When I threw myself over him, driven by the way the candlelight reflected off his face, tearing at his shirt strings, he did not complain, however. He knew me well enough that I would tell him eventually. Just not now. Not when he did not need to know.

The last leg of our journey was completed in silence, not for Edward's own lack of trying – he nudged me, smiled at me, even tried joking with me in order to coax a smile off my face, but it was no use. I sat there and battled with myself, wishing I could turn to him and confess everything, but unsure whether it was the right time or whether I could bear to endure his reaction.

Poor Edward lapsed into silence to match mine after a while when I refused to dignify his attempts to cheer me up. I felt terrible, and wrapped my arms around myself – even that gesture felt like I was making my condition incredibly obvious, and I had to turn away from him and force myself to stare blindly at the slowly familiarising countryside around us. The sky darkened as we approached the house, looming into view as we drove over the crest of one of the surrounding hills, and Edward surprised me at this point by taking my hand, forcing me to look at him.

"Bella," he said, seriously, "I know something is wrong, and if you do not want to tell me, then…I suppose that is your decision, but I wish that you could tell me." I only looked at him, feeling sadder than ever that it was me who was the cause of the hurt and confusion in his face – I began to open my mouth, intending to apologise profusely even though he would not know what for, but Edward shushed me, putting a finger to my lips. "I do not care about that, Bella. I just wished to say that these last two months with you have been…unimaginably wonderful. It's ending now, and I do not know when we will next be together as we were, but I would not trade the time we had for the world." He smiled at me, and my heart both melted and broke at the same time. My poor, good Edward. What could he have done to deserve someone like me?

I moved forward and threw my arms around him, pressing my face into his shoulder, drawing comfort from his warmth and solidness – he hugged me back as the carriage rolled to a stop, pulling away and smiling at me, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. "I love you," he told me, and I shook my head, reaching up to twist my fingers through his.

"I love you too."

Edward led me inside with all the formality of a man who I did not know, his hold on my hand brief and fleeting. As we entered the house, the clacking of my heels against the marble floor jarring and strange after so much time in Alice's small townhouse, my husband greeted us at the main staircase. "Henry!" I cried, in genuine delight – it was marvellous to see him well again. Edward stepped back into the shadows as I hurried forward, meaning to hug him: then I restrained myself, suddenly remember that he was my husband, not my lover. He stood there, very formal in his dark tailcoat and formal shirt, tied together with his characteristic red cloth, his hair brushed and neatly tied back. Too long had I dallied in a world where social convention had no role to play. Carefully, I spread my skirts and bowed my head, reverting back into being a Duchess again. Cool, calm, collected. Dignity at all times, Bells.

Henry smiled approvingly, taking my hand and kissing it, his calm, happy expression genuine. He really was a good man. "I trust you had a restful stay with your sister, my love?"

"Oh, yes, of course," I smiled, "It was wonderful to see her. And your Mr Cullen was a most courteous and loyal companion. I felt very safe with him."

"Good." Henry smiled at Edward, who stepped forward next to me and bowed, hands behind his back.

"Your grace."

"Cullen. Thank you for taking care of my wife." Just for appearances sake I stepped forward and turned, so I was standing next to my husband, and smiled at him instead of Edward, "I felt much the happier for her being gone. What happened here was so…messy. I hate for her to be caught up in all that. But, of course, everything is fine now." He smiled at me, "And we are happy to have you both returned to us."

I smiled back for him, half genuine, "And we are glad to be returned."

Edward nodded, then cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "May I be excused, your Grace? I would go and find my partner and see if he is well."

"Of course," Henry replied, grinning at him, "Though you need not fear. I have taken good care of your partner, just as you have taken good care of mine." Edward's gaze flicked up, flashed across mine, and I blushed whilst he looked away.

"Your graces," Edward bowed formally, then was gone, his coattails flapping behind him as he made his exit – I stared after him, biting my lip, wishing I could follow, but my husband had other ideas.

"Come," Henry said, taking my arm, "Everyone is waiting to greet you." I winced inwardly, putting a slight hand to my stomach, aware that I could not cite tiredness and escape, not after neglecting my husband for so long. I sighed, then put on a brave face as Henry led me up the stairs through to the ballroom, where I was met with a crowd of well-wishers, all of whom wished to talk to me, ask about my stay in London, who I met and where I went. Of course I had little to tell, given that I spent two months with only my sister, Edward and Jasper, instead of making the social rounds like everything thought I must have.

After a while the music started, and I spotted Edward on the piano with Emmett at his side on his violin – I sighed, closing my eyes tight shut against some silly tears, and before I knew it I was standing next to Rosalie.

"Rosalie," I pulled her aside, "Rose, I have something I need to talk to you about."

"What is it?" she asked; I bit my lip, very aware of the eyes and ears around me belonging to people who were well-practised in the art of eavesdropping, especially on me. I took her arm and shook my head at her.

"Not here." She nodded, used to this – I often dragged her away like this to talk about private things only she was allowed hear – and took my arm.

"We can go to my room," she said firmly, linking my elbow in hers. I smiled at her, gladdened in her understanding, and let her lead the way, both of us slipping out the door without anybody noticing. We walked in silence to her room, our shoes clicking softly on the parquet floor; I imagined I could almost hear her thinking, hear the stars whispering to me from the sky, as they had on all those nights when I lay alone in bed and wondered what Edward was doing, and whether he was thinking of me.

Rosalie sat me down on her bed after closing and locking the door, and then sat down beside me, fixing me with a stern gaze. "Now, Bella," Rosalie said, seriously, "Tell me what is wrong."

I took a deep breath, fixed my eyes on hers so I would not falter, and told her the truth. If I could not tell Rose, then there was no one I could trust with this information. And I was about to burst with it. "I am with child, Rosalie," I told her plainly, not surprised by how her blue eyes widened, "Edward's child."

"What?" Rosalie was never one to be shocked for long – her expression immediately turned business-like. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, "Absolutely."

She gave me a look. "Is that absolutely a wishful one, or a certain one?"

I smiled nervously, "Rosalie, trust me, I would know if it was not his. Henry has not come to my bed in months, though he knows so little of children I am sure he would believe it is his…look how far grown I am, and tell me how many months you would give the child." Rosalie frowned, but came forward, pressing her hands to my abdomen – she had three sisters, all of whom had had children before she married for the first time, and I knew she had spent many months caring for them and learning from them through their pregnancies. I could trust her judgment, I was sure of it.

"Two months," she said after a minute, stepping back with a worried frown, "Though I cannot completely be sure through your corset…maybe two weeks more? Two months seems too little."

"Damn," I murmured, hating that she had confirmed my fears, "I was so hoping it might be within the time frame of London. Then he could be absolutely sure."

"You have not told him?" Rosalie said, sounding surprised – I shrugged helplessly.

"How could I, Rose? How could I entrust him with the knowledge that I am with a child that I cannot absolutely prove is his? Henry did not visit me in the weeks before that, but still…oh, Rose, what shall I do?" I got up at this point, restless, pacing backwards and forwards whilst Rosalie watched me. "How could I tell him the truth when the truth may not be enough? Edward trusts me, but I am afraid that this will eat at him until he cannot bear it and does something stupid."

Rosalie thought for a minute whilst I stood there, distracting myself gazing down at my abdomen, wondering at how much I loved the being growing inside already. Her or she had caused me so much strife, and still I was strangely excited in a way I never had been before. With Henry, the idea of having children simply felt as an extra key that he could use to lock me down, to keep me with him…but the idea of having children with Edward was totally different. The knowledge that part of it was Edward was thrilling – I had never felt closer to him than I did now. My family was becoming a reality…albeit unorthodoxly, but when had my life ever been orthodox?

"Bella," Rosalie said then, catching my attention, "I think…I am afraid…you may have to lie to him."

"What?" I had not been expecting that, "Why?"

"I do not think that it will be enough."

"Then what will be enough?"

"You must tell him anything, Bella," she told me, "Anything at all to make him believe it is his."

I gazed at her, agonised, "Will he not believe me if I tell him I am sure?"

Rosalie shook her head, "You know how men are, Bella. You were right, even …even the smallest chance the child is not his will prey upon his mind, and you must convince the Duke that it is his as well. Such a performance may make Edward doubt himself. Doubt you." I wrapped my arms around myself, folding into her dressing table chair, my heart growing cold, and she sighed, putting out a hand to touch my shoulder. "Tell him _anything_," she repeated, "Do whatever you must if you wish to spare him any doubt."

I sighed, "I hate to lie to him."

"At this point, Bells," Rosalie said sadly, "There is nothing else you can do."

* * *

"Would you like me to stay, my wife?"

I shook my head at once at my husband who was standing in my doorway, my hands tightening into fists in my bedsheets. "Oh, no!" He frowned, and I heard what that must have sounded like, and at once softened my tone. "The journey has wearied me much, my husband. I do not think I could stay awake for you."

"Oh." His expression barely faltered – I'd already suspected he had other plans for tonight. "Well, then," he bowed, "Goodnight, my lady. I hope you sleep well."

I smiled, the perfect wife, pretending I knew nothing about where he would go…at least I did not have to pretend to not care. "Goodnight. Sleep well."

He left, and I changed whilst listening to his footsteps echo down the hall, fading into silence. I smiled, satisfied, before slipping my nightgown over my head, pulling out my hair so it tumbled, free and easy, down my shoulders, and settled into my bed to wait for Edward. Even though we had parted uncertainly, I was sure that he would not decide not to come. Luckily, I did not have to wait long.

There was a short knock on the door – two taps – and I called out, "Enter!" That was how we could ensure it was safe. Two taps meant it was him, enter, instead of come in, meant that I was alone.

Edward's head appeared around the doorway, the rest of him stepping in after him. "Good evening," he smiled, closing the door quietly behind him. I smiled back, happy that he was not angry with me – I held out my arms to him, wanting him closer. He stood still for a second, gazing at me, then he grinned and made for the bed at a run, jumping in so I was thrown a little into the air. I giggled as I fell in a heap beside him and he scooped me up, cradling me against his chest: I happily curled up there, my ear against his heart, listening to it beat. He sighed into my hair, kissed my temple. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," I said, looking up at him, kissing his cheek, "Thank you for being patient with me, Edward."

"Always." He did not press me further, only sighed and settled down with me, and we lay there together in silence for a while – I was just enjoying his company, and he was the first to speak.

"I miss it already."

"Hmm?"

"London."

"Oh." I turned over, when before I had been lying on my back, staring contentedly up at the ceiling; I smiled at him, leaning forward to try to kiss the sadness from his face. "I know." I stroked his cheek gently, propping myself up above him on my elbow whist he slid a hand over my waist, gazing up at me – I was struck as I always was by how beautiful he was, and took advantage of my position by leaning down to kiss him gently. He responded at once, mouth opening on mine, his arms going around me, pulling me down against him. I pushed my fingers into his hair as he rolled, keeping his weight balanced so he did not press down on me too hard, but hard enough that it was as exhilarating as ever.

I was too busy kissing him to notice his hands slipping over my abdomen, probably just passing through – but he was smart, and he felt the way my stomach was curved, less pliable to the touch than it had been before. He knew my body intimately, just as I knew his, and he could tell when something changed. I moaned as he pulled away, unsuspecting of what would come next, and shifted, pushing myself up on my elbows. "Edward…" He was staring at my stomach, his eyes wide, and I took one look at him and knew exactly what he was thinking.

Damn.

"Bella…" Edward said, only shock on his face, which I supposed was a relief, "Bella…what is this? What is going on? What have you not told me?" His voice was rising with each sentence, louder and louder, and I winced, pressing my fingers against his lips, pleading him into silence with my frightened gaze. Edward hushed, all right, but his hands were still on my belly, exploring the soft roundness with his warm hands – if we had been in any other situation, I would have let myself go to the feeling of him caressing the bump, but now I could not think about that. He looked at me with wide eyes, and I sighed, trying to keep calm for the baby's sake.

"Edward," I started, trying to find the words, "Edward…I…I was going to tell you, but I did not know how to…" He only stared at me, hands still pressed against my abdomen, his expression unfathomable. I tried again, but all I could do was stutter his name, and eventually I said the only thing I could.

"It is yours, Edward."

Something changed in his eyes, and abruptly he threw himself off the bed, walking away and stopping a few feet from me, back turned. I shook my head, terrified that he was going to leave. "Edward…please…come, I would not lie about this. I know this is hard to accept, but…oh, Edward, please. Please don't leave."

"I'm not going to leave!" he said, turning back, "I am just trying to understand why on earth you would keep something like this from me!"

"I'm sorry!" I insisted, still in a hushed tone since there were people sleeping in the rooms around us, gripping the bedsheets in my fingers. "I truly am, Edward, but…I only realised just as we were leaving, and it was all too much to take in. Believe me when I say that I was not holding back from you out of shame – this child _is_ yours, Edward. I am so sure of it. I swear it is." I looked at him, trying to convey in my gaze just how sorry and despairing I was – I could not lose him. Surely he knew that. But the confusion and doubt in his eyes told me that Rosalie was right…there was nothing I could do but lie to him if I wanted him to stay. "Edward," I tried again, attempting to coax him back to me, "Edward, please let me explain."

He shook his head, and my heart twisted painfully. "I do not think I want to, Bella."

That hurt more than I thought it would. In all the time we had been together, Edward had never looked at me as he did now. He had never looked so…betrayed. A lump rose in my throat, and before I knew it I was crying stupidly – I wiped the tears away, angry at my body for betraying me, trying again even though my voice was cracking. "I am sorry I did not tell you," I hiccoughed, the tears flowing faster simply because I could not stop them, "I feel terrible. This child is everything that is good between us…but I was so afraid, Edward. I'm still so…so scared."

Edward looked at me, sitting there in the tangled sheets crying like a little girl, and maybe he felt sorry for me, or maybe I aroused his sympathy, but for whatever reason, he sighed and shook his head at me. "You silly girl," he murmured, before moving forward and climbing back onto the bed, taking me in his arms and letting me rest my head against him.

"It is yours, Edward," I moaned, even as he kissed the top of my head, "I am so sure."

"Shh," he shushed me gently, rocking me slowly and holding me tightly to him; his voice was soft, but I knew him so well, and there was something in it that I knew was doubt, that he was only humouring me. "I know, love; I know."

"I am sure, Edward," I breathed into his chest, my voice breaking again, desperate that he should know – desperate that he should be completely sure of me, as I was. "My size," I felt his muscles contract as I whispered urgently, "Edward, it is hardly noticeable – Rosalie assures me that can only mean the child is a mere two months old and that is only at most." I felt him sigh, and gathered my courage to lean back, to look at him, to fix my eyes on his and free myself of guilt – I was sure. Utterly and completely sure. "Two months ago, you can tell me where we were, Edward." I put a hand to his cheek, breathing deeply, nodding to him, "You can tell me, Edward – you know it as well as I."

"London," he breathed, and when his hand came up to cover mine, our fingers intertwining, I closed my eyes, resting my head against his chest.

"London," I echoed, breathing a sigh of relief – I knew he understood. "Henry was not there in London, was he?"

Edward chuckled a little at my attempt at humour. "Even if he were," he said, stroking my hair gently, "I doubt there would have been any chance of him managing to get into your bed anyway." I did not answer, simply smiled and hugged him tighter, so glad and grateful for him, pushing away the sadness I felt about having to lie to him. Another man could have left me without any explanation...but I had always known Edward would never do that to me. He would let me explain.

When the child was born, he would know for sure, and then I could tell him the truth.

Satisfied, I pushed the thought truly back and settled into his arms, trying to calm myself for the baby's and my own sake, sick of crying and of feeling sad – in any other situation, this would have been a moment of joy for us. It was horrible that it could not be that way now.

"I love you, Edward," I told him, pulling back and smiling, wanting to see his face – he smiled at me too, then his face went blank for a second in the way I knew meant a thought had hit him. He sat still for moment whilst I sat in his lap, waiting for him to speak, and when he did his face broke into a too-wide, uncontrolled smile.

"We are having a child."

"Yes," I laughed tearfully, even as he smiled, his face filled with the joy I had longed to see; he embraced me, almost launching himself at me, throwing us both backwards onto the mattress, his arms tight around me, his kisses in my hair, and I sobbed again against my better judgement. It was just too much to finally filled with the excitement that I felt too. "Oh, Edward," I cried, "I am so happy that you are happy...I was so worried..."

"Happy? No, my love, I am overjoyed!" he kissed me properly then, his voice quick in between kisses. "A family! I never thought I would get to have one…just having you was enough, and now you have given me this?" He laughed, "Bells, you are too good to me."

No guilt, Bells. This had to be done.

"I would say the same thing."

* * *

**Review? :) Love y'all!**

**ATO xxxxx**


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